Wings of Despair
by StevieCass
Summary: Sam is in trouble, and Dean can't see his brother turn into a monster again. His feelings have an unexpected effect to the parts of angelic Grace Cas has left inside him. Can that surprising turn of events be actually the only way Sam can be saved? wing!fic, rated M to be sure.
1. Chapter 1

_**Spoilers**__:The fic takes place somehwere in the 6th season, I guess, but it's kinda blurred. Sam has a soul and Cas isn't determined in becoming God, nor does he work with Crowley. I haven't decided yet if Bobby's around or not._

_**Notes/Warnings**__:Angel!Dean, werewolf!Sam (this'll take a while). No Destiel sex here. The reason I wrote this is because a) I wanted a Destiel fic without the sex and b) I wanted to combine my two favourite creatures: angels and werewolves. I have actually no idea what I'm doing, I've never written a fic before, I didn't start reading fics until very recently. So I hope you enjoy this ^^_

_**Chapter 1**_

"Sam! Sam, can you hear me? Sammy!"

Dean was yelling Sam's name again and again, even though he knew that there was probably no chance that his younger brother would listen over his spasms. He grabbed Sam's arms and tried to keep them down, so that he wouldn't hurt himself.

"Cas! Where the hell are you?"

Castiel showed up out of nowhere, as usual. He opened his mouth to greet Dean, but the words abandoned him as soon as he saw Dean covered in blood and Sam squirming like a fish on land, surrounded by several bodies that took up half the motel parking lot.

"Dean, what happened?" the angel exclaimed, the worry in his voice clear as a crystal, running towards the brothers.

"Freakin' werewolves, that's what happened", said Dean, still struggling to keep his brother in place. "Please, Cas, help me here!"

Castiel kneeled quickly next to Dean and gently touched Sam's forehead with his fingertips. Sam stopped shivering and he laid still, eyes half-open, his breath only a whisper.

Dean was breathing heavily. Castiel looked at him and he returned the glare.

"Come on", said Dean, "we need to clean this place up before the cops show. Sam needs help, and soon!"

"Leave that to me", said Cas, and the next moment they were all in the motel room. Dean shook his head to shake away the angel-transportation-thingy Castiel was so fond of. He turned his look to one of the two beds, where Sam was resting, his clothes still soaked in his opponents' and his own blood.

"What happened to the bodies?" asked Dean in a hoarse voice, without taking his eyes off his brother.

"Gone", Castiel replied simply. "I took care of it. I might not be as powerful as I used to, but I can handle a pack of dead wolves."

He came closer to Dean, who was still staring at Sam.

"What happened, Dean?"

"We were attacked, Cas. What do you think happened?" Dean didn't go on at once. It took courage to accept what had actually happened and put it into words. He took a deep breath. "It was a witch. She sent her werewolves against us and… and Sam…" he didn't finish the sentence.

"_Her_ werewolves?" Dean knew that tone. Castiel used it when he was trying to remain calm but his insides were boiling – well, at least whatever insides an angel could have. Dean tried to remain calm as well.

"I've met her before", he said. "I mean, not exactly her. Her sister. I don't remember her name, but I remembered her face vaguely, and when I saw that bitch today I was sure I knew her somewhere. I think her last name is Sheridan, or something. It had happened when Dad went missing, in my way to take Sam from Stanford. She had some kind of special mojo that controlled supernatural creatures. I killed her and her ghouls and didn't think about it twice till today. Dammit, I should have known that this would happen, I knew she had a sister!" Dean yelled and he banged his hand on the wall.

"Dean, it's not your fault", said Cas calmly. "You couldn't have known."

"But I did know, that's the point! I'd do the same for Sam! If someone hurt him, I'd seek my revenge too! And the bitch actually controls _werewolves, _Cas, and the motherfuckers bit Sam! We're so screwed I can't even begin to describe it!"

Dean sat on the edge of his bed and hid his face in his palms. He couldn't do it. Not again. He couldn't see Sam turn into a werewolf, of all things. He knew how this would end if there was anyone else in Sam's place – he'd have shot the poor bastard without much thought. Hell, he and Sam had had to do that before; he sometimes still remembered Sam's eyes when he had to shoot Madison. But now… it was Sammy on the table. It was the one thing he actually knew there was no cure for and he'd led Sammy right into it, because he'd failed to kill the witch's sister a few years back.

He looked up, trying to calm his mind, and saw Castiel on Sam's bedhead, like a caring parent. He had his hand on Sam's forehead, like he was trying to find out whether he had a fever. Sam's breathing was slow and heavy; the angel's touch didn't seem to do much for him.

"Can you help him, Cas?" asked Dean quietly. He wasn't sure he wanted to ask the question, just in case the answer was "no". Castiel turned his eyes on him.

"I don't know, Dean", he said and left Sam's side. "Lycanthropy is a difficult situation. Of course, as long as your brother is asleep, he's safe."

" Didn't that work the other way round?" said Dean. "I thought werewolves only wolfed out when they were sleeping."

"Yes, but this is not a normal sleep", replied Cas. "I'm controlling him so that he won't… 'wolf out'. If there's anything that can affect lycanthropes, it's heavenly power."

Dean felt the iron clamp that had his heart clenched loosen a little bit. "So what are you telling me? There's hope for Sammy? Can you do it?"

Castiel looked away. Never a good sign. "Dean, I've almost fallen. I don't have the necessary power to heal Sam. I can only keep him stabilized for now. To be completely honest with you, even if my Grace was whole and in full power, I don't know if it would be possible for him to ever be exactly the way he was."

"Are you telling me that there's no way of helping him?" yelled Dean. "What about the other angels? Won't there be anyone willing to help?" He knew as he spoke that his words sounded hollow, like a little kid who asks his mother to kiss the pain goodbye.

To Dean's surprise, Cas looked him in the eyes with a guilty, mischievous look the hunter had never seen on the angel's face before; it was like Castiel was feeling really, really bad for thinking what he thought, but he couldn't help liking it. Dean realised for the first time that Castiel was indeed Gabriel's brother.

"Cas? What is it?" Dean asked, not sure if he should worry.

"Dean, there is no angel in Heaven who'd help your brother. He was Lucifer's vessel. It's quite normal that most angels hold no sympathies for him, so we cannot rely on them. The only way for any angel to help Sam would be for that angel to be emotionally bound to him, so that willpower alone would stream the angelic power to the right direction towards Sam's healing, or to be one who had no connection whatsoever with Lucifer and therefore doesn't mind coming so close to his vessel."

Dean let all the info sink in before he sorted out his questions and decided which one to ask first. "What do you mean, 'so close to Lucifer's vessel'? How close?"

"To cure a person from such a serious condition, one must not only heal his body, but his very soul. That's why any angel who is not very close to Sam or pays attention to Lucifer's scars on his existence won't be able to cure him without a very high risk of damaging him."

"And you say you can't do it 'cause your mojo is drained?"

"I can't do it –"

"Great." If sarcasm was a liquid, Dean would have choked on it.

"…by myself."

Dean stared at Castiel. The angel was looking at him in a way that couldn't have any good meaning behind it.

"…so, who's going to help you, Cas?"

Castiel sighed in a very human way. "Dean, when I pulled you out from Hell, I gave up a huge amount of my Grace to achieve that. I have reasons to believe that it didn't go to waste, but instead, was safely stored inside you. If we –"

"Cas, stop."

Dean could see where this was going. He felt like he had a snake colony in his insides. Castiel, though, came closer and sat beside him.

"If we try to make my Grace in you show and take over for a while", continued Cas, very carefully, like Dean was going to break because of his words, "then you would be the best person to take care of Sam. You are so connected to him that you would never put him in danger."

"But if you, a proper angel, can't do anything for him, how can I…"

"I said I can't do it by myself, Dean. I request your help to save your brother. I don't know what else is there that I can try."

Dean gulped. "And how can we… angel me up?"

Was that a smirk on Cas' face? "Are you asking me to tell you or show you?"

Dean looked at his reflection in the dusty motel mirror, opposite of his bed. What would happen to him? But then the corner of his eye caught his brother's reflection; pale, breathing slowly, covered in blood. He imagined his brother full of teeth and claws and out of control, or even worse, under the witch's control, killing people, eating the hearts out of poor people's chests and then wagging his tail at the bitch.

Oh well. He hated angels, but he once was at the point of becoming a demon for Sam, and he surely hated them more. He knew he would do _that_ again, if it was for Sammy. What could possibly be worse? He took a deep breath.

"Show me."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

"Show me", said Dean.

Castiel smiled. Dean would have been surprised, if he weren't so damn scared. The angel stood up.

"Look at me, Dean Winchester."

Castiel's voice was cold as ice. Dean felt like freezing water had just ran down his spine, but when he looked up to face the angel, Cas' eyes were warm as always. He had a quite sad expression in his face, and Dean could see his jaw muscles were tightened.

Dean tried to look away, but for some reason the angel's eyes had him hypnotized in seconds. He had never felt so intimidated by Castiel's power; he had never looked less human. It felt like he had this enormous bright aura around him. For some reason, Dean could almost see past the angel's vessel…

"Dean, stop!"

The hunter blinked and focused on Cas' lapel instead of his face. He suddenly felt ashamed.

"What did I do wrong?" he asked, feeling like an idiot.

"Nothing", Castiel said. "It's actually really surprising, you…" he stopped. " Dean, you almost peeked at my true form. Moreover, you did that before I even got started. I had to stop you. I trust you still want your eyes. You're not ready for something like that yet."

Dean felt like his throat was tied into a knot. He nodded and made an indistinguishable grunt that might have been a positive answer.

"Dean, I want you to concentrate", said Castiel.

"I'm trying, man, but I don't even know what I should be doing here", said Dean before he could control himself and sounding much more disappointed that he'd intended. "How does this work?"

Castiel smiled again. This was getting awkward. "Trust me", he said. He inhaled as if he was going to start a sentence, but stopped mid-way. He narrowed his eyes, examining Dean with his stare. Dean was starting to feel naked.

"Dean, would you mind removing your shirt?"

Whoops, he was wrong – _now_ he was feeling naked.

"Dude, what the hell?" he barked at Castiel.

"I know what I'm doing. Now remove your upper attire."

"We're not going to have a happy time, are we?" cackled Dean, his voice sounding muffled through his off-coming T-shirt.

"I don't know if you are indeed going to be delighted about this, Dean, but I certainly hope so", said Castiel, completely missing the sarcasm, as usual.

Dean threw his T-shirt on the bed behind him and looked at Cas. He hoped he had managed to keep his poker face, though his heart was racing like crazy in his chest.

"Trust me, Dean, there's no need to worry", said Castiel, as if he read his thoughts. "Now, I want you to concentrate. Look at me the way you did before, but I want you to focus on your thoughts instead. Your concern for Sam, what will happen to him if we fail, I want you to _focus_, Dean. Can you do that?" He stared into the hunter's eyes, and Dean nodded. Cas returned the nod and stood still, just looking at Dean. The hunter had the impression that the angel's lips were somewhat moving, but he could neither hear anything nor look away from Castiel's eyes.

Dean didn't feel anything unusual. He was too stressed to concentrate properly. He suspected Cas had been repeating his name over and over to motivate him. It kinda worked.

A couple of minutes passed. Castiel's irises hadn't moved at all. Dean was sure of it, the angel was muttering Enochian words under his breath; he didn't know how he knew it, but he did. Nothing more happened, though.

Holy shit, this was taking long. It was like a staring contest with someone who couldn't laugh. Dean wasn't going to lose to a nerdy angel without a sense of humor. He kept staring back at the deep blue eyes and decided he wasn't going to laugh, even when he imagined about how ridiculous the two of them must look like. He wasn't going to laugh.

…actually, if Sam was turned, he didn't think he'd laugh ever again.

He couldn't be the one bearing the fault for this. Sam needed to be saved, and what was he doing? Literally sitting on his bed and staring at another dude. He should be out there, hunting that whore down, ripping out her throat. She could have come after him, but _no_, she chose to come after his brother. She wanted to see him suffer.

Well, he wouldn't give her the pleasure. He'd do whatever was humanly possible; hell, he'd do whatever was possible no matter the species limits. He was going to fix Sam and rub him in her old face, alive and kicking. He'd see this to an end. He'd do anything to see Sam standing up, healthy and lively. He'd give up his very soul, no matter how many times. He'd –

"That's it, Dean. Focus."

Yes. He was focused. Focused on Castiel's eyes. In them lied the secret to Sam's salvation, in the pure, white light coming out of Castiel's eyelids. Dean wouldn't stop staring at it even if he could. In them lied his own salvation too. His heart was pounding, his limbs were heavy, his eyes hurt from not blinking. He could tell how, but he could hear the silent words that were coming out of Castiel's mouth. The handprint on his left shoulder hurt like it was on fire. He saw – no, he _felt – _he felt the same white light as in Castiel's eyes glowing inside his chest shyly, and then it started pounding along with his heartbeat, shining more and more every time his pulse hit his veins. Then it consumed him, leaving him unable to breathe or move or look anywhere else but the enormous light source that was Castiel and the spot Dean knew were his eyes. Dean felt his bones snap under the weight of the pure light, he heard them cracking and breaking and being shattered so they could stick together again. He knew he was feeling pain, but he was experiencing it on another level, like he knew his body was breaking and dying, but him, he was safe and sound inside his angel's eyes –

And then he was back in his physical body; the pain came so suddenly that Dean screamed louder than he knew anyone could scream. His hands grabbed the old blanket on his bed and he crashed on the floor, feeling like he was hit by a truck.

Everything was different. What was that – oh. Yes. First he needed to open his eyes.

Dean looked around and gasped. He couldn't name half the colours he was seeing; and not in a man-woman sort of way. He literally couldn't remember having seen some colours never before in his life.

"Son of a –"

"Dean?"

Holy mother of fuck, Castiel. Dean turned his eyes on the angel and kept staring. Was he always so… bright? And, what was that – did Cas have wings before? Did he actually have them _now_? There was a rough dark shape around the angel's back but it wasn't clear. Dean suddenly realised his mouth was half-open and he closed it.

"Cas –"

"Try to calm down, Dean. Everything in its good time", Cas said and kneeled next to him, so that he could take the hunter's weight on his shoulder and get up, putting him back on his feet. Dean felt light-headed, but not enough to not realize something was terribly off with his balance. His weight felt weird – he tripped, making Castiel grab him tighter.

"Ouch, Cas, you pulled my –"

Dean froze. What was he about to say? He turned his head slowly towards Cas and faced the usual blue eyes – no lights, nor anything – looking at him with something that felt like… amusement?

"My apologies, Dean", said the angel. "I'm not familiar with being cautious around anyone's wings but mine. I'll eventually get used to it."

Shit.

Dean felt the extra weight take shape in his mind. He mentally followed the line from his shoulders to his shoulder blades to the completely new limbs that were sprouting from back there.

He felt his legs weaken and he grabbed Castiel's coat; the angel held him tight.

"Do you want to sit down?" Dean heard Cas say, but he wasn't really listening. As much as he couldn't stop looking at the angel a couple of minutes ago, he didn't want to look at him now. His gaze was fixed on something else.

The dusty mirror had cracked in a couple of places, but Dean didn't care how it had happened. He focused on his reflection.

He let go of Castiel's grip and slowly brought himself close to the mirror.

Huh. Cas was right about taking off the shirt.

He peered at his wings. They were huge, bigger than he could comprehend without spreading them, they were a rich, dark blond-ish brown and fuck, they felt weird. Every air current passing through the feathers tickled. Some of them felt a little off – was it their position? Somehow some feathers were all messed up and Dean wanted nothing more than to stroke them back in place.

He tried to move them. Some nerves responded to his brain's signal, but instead of just moving, Dean felt his left brand new limb hit something at the same time Cas let out a grunt. Dean turned to see the angel rubbing his shoulder, but actually smiling.

"…sorry", mumbled Dean, feeling like an idiot again. When did this happen, Dean looking more like an angel than Cas? How the hell did Cas hide his own wings?

"Don't apologise", said Castiel and ducked under Dean's wings, as they turned with the rest of Dean's body to follow him next to Sam.

"Dean –"

"Okay, we did it", said Dean and sat on Sam's bed. The younger Winchester hadn't been bothered by the whole angel fuss and was still sleeping. "Now let's get healing."

"Dean, don't rush it", said Castiel. "You still can't control your wings and you want to put your hand inside Sam's soul? You're going to break him!"

"No, _you _are going to put your hand inside Sam's soul. I'll just follow your orders", said Dean, trying his best to ignore the eerie feeling he was getting from his little brother, as well as the blur inside his head.

"It doesn't work that way. First we need to –"

"Cas, enough, all right?" cried Dean. "I did what you asked me to and I've never feel worse in my life. I did it all for Sam, and he's still angel-comatosed. Now, let's get healing!"

Castiel sighed. "Dean, I know you're eager to help your brother, but you're not strong enough yet. I'm surprised you haven't collapsed! Do you even realise that you have woken inside you a power that can burn people's eyes out, and you haven't felt a thing?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? I feel like I was used as a boxing sack for a pissed buffalo!"

"You should be feeling like you fell from a skyscraper", said Cas. "Listen, Dean, you need to rest. I'll take care of Sam. I'll do my best to fix some part of him, but you're going to need how to work with your new power before you try to heal him."

Dean shook his head wearily. He couldn't rest, not before he made sure Sam would be okay. But his brother looked so peaceful and his own head was so heavy under the weight of all the new information, and the breaking, and the new colours and the auras he was seeing around him. It looked like the whole world was a different place. He wondered if Cas, being a real angel and all, could see even more of this new world than himself.

He felt Castiel's hand on his shoulder.

"Go to sleep", he heard him say, and his voice was full of concern.

Dean took a while to think of something to say. Damn, his head was spinning. "Am I supposed to sleep? Y'know, be able to sleep?" he asked, not taking his eyes off his little brother.

Cas smiled gently. "Yes. You have some angelic Grace inside you, but that doesn't make you the same as us in everything. To be honest with you, I wasn't even expecting to see any feathers, but you're full of surprises, Dean Winchester."

Dean didn't answer. He was actually happy he would be able to sleep. He liked sleeping. He wondered absent-mindedly if he would ever again be able to lie on his back.

He felt Castiel pulling him up and then pushing him in his bed. He didn't resist. He was in the bed next to Sam's, he would notice if anything was to happen to him, besides, he looked like he was just napping, what could go wrong with two angels watching over him? Well, an angel and a half. But still, the one-half was Sam's big brother, so he counted for three.

Feeling a little reassured, Dean lied down on his right side, careful not to sit on any feathers and not irritate his sensitive left shoulder. His wings were spread casually behind him, falling off the bed and touching the floor. Before his eyes closed, he saw Cas bringing a wet towel from the bathroom. Then he felt a warm hand pulling a blanket over his naked torso, he heard the door locking, and he passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, guys, I wanna thank you all for your enthusiasm! I'm an awfully new writer and I didn't expect so many follows on my first fic! I really love each and every one of you! Thanks for the support! ^^**

**A little something that I haven't written anywhere, the title of the fic is a Kamelot song. You should give it a shot, if you like metal. It's worth it. : )**

**On another note, this chapter holds a little something for you romantic Destiel shippers. Don't get too excited cause I warned you, there's no seks. But I've got something there to make it up to you. More to come…**

_**Chapter 3**_

Pie.

Yes. There was no doubt of it. That was the smell of fresh-baked pie.

Dean half-opened his eyes, to protect them from the daylight flooding the room. He hadn't slept that well for ages. How long had he been sleeping? He didn't know and, honestly, he didn't care. He felt lively and ready for anything.

He yawned and stretched his arms and – whoops, something crashed. Fuck. New, out of control wings stretch at the same time as arms, he noted mentally, just for future reference. He checked behind his back – yes, his wings were still there, the brownish feathers messy from the tossing and turning in his sleep. The old lamp that was sitting on the bedside table lay now shattered on the floor. Okay, no worries, he'd soon learn how to deal with the whole wing control thing.

He threw away the sheets and sat up on the edge of his bed. He blinked, trying to get rid of the sleepiness. The new colours were even clearer to him now, but it didn't bother him that much. He'd started enjoying it. He turned his look towards Sam's bed.

There he was, his baby brother. He was still sleeping, obviously. His face and clothes had been cleaned of the blood and dirt, his sheets and covers were neat. Castiel had indeed taken good care of him.

Speaking of the devil – or, whatever…?

"Cas?" called Dean. No answer. Where was he?

Dean got up carefully; he didn't want to break anything else. He tried to fold his wings on his back and – hey, would you look at that, it worked. Nice. All he had to do was keep it that way. He caught a glimpse of something interesting on the table and grinned; God, Cas was definitely a keeper. There it was; fresh pie and coffee. For a guy who didn't eat, Cas sure knew how to pick a good breakfast.

Dean rubbed his neck and explored on what his body was telling him for a moment – yes, he was sure he was hungry. Awesome, still a human at that. He wouldn't like to miss his chance for pies and booze. He went to the bathroom to pee and wash his face. Human needs alright. Just a normal morning, nothing more. Nothing supernatural going on; well, nothing except for the two extra limbs filling up the small bathroom space, but what could you do.

He mentally made sure his wings were safely close against his back and left the bathroom, water still dripping from his hair to his bare shoulders. The handprint didn't hurt anymore. He pulled a chair from near the table and flinched at the squeaking it made against the floorboards; he looked at Sam. He didn't wake.

Dean sat quite casually, his wings relaxed, one on each side of the chair's back. He was getting the hang of it. He took a sip of the coffee; still hot.

"Cas? Where are you?" he called, unsure.

He expected Castiel to just show up, as usual. Instead of that he heard a flapping sound coming from somewhere outside, a fluttering – not the usual, that lasted just a fraction of a second, but a loud, long one – Dean noted that he probably could hear lots of new angel things now, like when someone was coming – and then Cas appeared, looking the same as ever.

"Good morning, Dean", he greeted. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh. Okay, I guess", Dean said. "Better than I thought I'd feel last night. Thanks for the food, by the way".

"You're welcome."

"How long was I out?"

"Almost sixteen hours."

"For real?" Dean's eyes widened. "Wow, I really suck", he added with a sarcastic chuckle.

"Dean, not many humans could stand what you went through last night… or even survive it", sighed Castiel. "You embraced the Grace inside you in half an hour, you grew wings and you were able to stand on your feet, you stayed asleep for less than a couple of days and you're actually complaining about how long your recovery took?"

Dean felt a little embarrassed. "Yeah, okay, but Sam –"

"Sam is fine, and the sooner you're ready, the sooner he'll wake", said Cas patiently. "I see you're already habituating to your wings; that's good."

"Well, yeah, I had to stop breaking the motel sometime. You usually have to pay for these things, you know", said Dean awkwardly. "Speaking of money, how did you pay for the food? I didn't know you had a wallet."

Castiel blushed, to Dean's honest surprise. That was way too human for him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it.

"Forget about that. What do we do now?" asked Dean in a hurry, to put the angel out of the uncomfortable state. Cas went with the flow.

"We teach you how to use your new power. It won't take long, I believe. Judging by your progress till now, you'll be ready in a few days."

Dean almost dropped his pie.

"What?"

"I said, I'm going to teach you how –"

"Yeah, I heard you, Cas", said Dean. "What do you mean by 'days'? The full moon's in about a week, and I can't have Sam turn into a freaking wolf! We need to go faster than that!"

"The full moon is in eight days, and _this_ isn't something you can learn in a moment", contended Castiel. "It's _angelic Grace _we're talking about, Dean. You need to be serious about this!"

"Oh, I am serious! I'm serious about hurrying before my brother becomes some witch's freaking pet!" roared Dean.

"…which he will become, if we fail to heal him, and that's exactly what will happen if you don't learn how to use your power properly!" answered Cas, in the same tone.

The two of them remained still for a while, just staring at each other. Dean thought that the only thing missing was their arms folded in their chests and some stolen candy for this to look exactly like an argument between six-year-olds. Dean decided to give up.

"Okay", he said and stuffed the rest of the pie in his mouth, before drinking the last bits of his coffee in one gulp. He spoke with his mouth full. "Let's do it your way. What do I need to do?"

Castiel didn't answer. Instead, he made a couple of gestures and Dean jumped as the furniture was noisily dragged towards the walls by a white light that Dean saw for the first time; he guessed that was how the angels always moved stuff around – it felt like some kind of weird energy. It faded when the furniture was out of the way. Only Sam's bed had remained in place. The room suddenly looked almost empty.

"First of all", Cas started as he turned to look at Dean, "you need to learn how to hide your wings."

Dean frowned. "I'm sorry, but I don't see how that's gonna help Sam."

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed. Dean knew he had pissed him off – he couldn't tell because of how Cas reacted, but because he _felt it. _It was clear in Castiel's aura… or something. He was just very aware that the atmosphere in the room had changed.

"Dean, if you can't control something as simple as that, you'll never be able to do anything as complicated as curing a lycanthrope", Castiel explained, too calmly. "It's just a simple exercise to practice your control over your power. Will you just trust me and follow my orders so we can move on?"

Dean nodded. He should calm down; he was way too worried. He stood opposite of Castiel. "Okay. Hide the wings. How do I do that?"

"Just concentrate on your image, what you want to show to the world. People can see you the way you want them to. If you concentrate, you will be able to make the wings completely invisible."

Dean closed his eyes and tried to fix his attention on the regular, human self he remembered. "If you can show yourself as anything you like, why do you need the vessel?" he asked in a low voice, as if he would disturb Cas if he spoke loudly. After a couple of seconds, Castiel decided to answer.

"The vessel is just a way of holding our Grace together while on Earth, a way of giving it a spot to focus on and compress itself so it doesn't take too much space. _You_ don't need a vessel, though, having a physical body of your own, so I believe you will be able to wrap your wings with a part of your Grace and hide them from the world. Anything else you want to ask?"

"Not for now."

"Then be quiet and focus."

Dean shifted his feet to be more comfortable, while his mind was filling with several words that no angel should ever think about. He was starting to get pissed. It was easy for Cas to boss him around; did he even remember the time when he had to control his angel mojo for the first time, or was it possible that he never had to do it at all?

Okay, focus. What did Cas want? Yes, to imagine himself the way he wanted people to see him. He tried not to smirk at the possibility of him trying to make people see him as Jimmy Page; he wondered if he would succeed.

"Dean."

"Yes. Yes. Sorry."

Fuck. Could Cas really tell when he lost his track? Dean shook his head to _think how the he wanted to be seen. _Yeah, but seen by whom? Right now the only one seeing him was Cas, and all _he_ was seeing was an awkward dude with even more awkward wings that were spread out, without a comfortable place to settle in. Maybe it would be easier if Cas let his own wings out, so that Dean could have an example. Why hadn't Cas showed him his wings, anyway? Was he keeping secrets? Dean wondered what they looked like, if he would ever see them, or if it was something angels were very secretive about, if it was something really personal, like seeing the other person naked.

Shit, was Cas seeing _him_ naked right now?

Dean felt the blood rushing to his face, and then he heard glass shattering and ducked instinctively.

"Dean!"

He opened his eyes and looked around him. The window glass and the mirror were broken and spread in a million pieces around the room; some were floating in mid-air above Sam. Cas made a little wave of his hand and they fell safely on the floor; then he looked at Dean, eyes wide-open.

"Did I do that?" Dean asked, the guilt in his voice so solid you could cut it with a knife.

"Dean, what –"

"Sorry. Sorry. I'll just try again", Dean muttered and went back to his place.

"Dean, what did you think about?" Castiel's voice was flooding with puzzlement.

"Nothing", said Dean, looking at his feet and trying to look casual.

"If you had thought of nothing, Dean, this is exactly what would have happened", said Cas. "What was it?"

"Dude, nothing, let go of it already!" Dean was feeling way too embarrassed.

"No, I will not", Cas insisted. "If you're putting your brother and the rest of the motel residents in danger, this is important. What was it?"

Dean was somewhat wishing the floor would crack open under his feet and swallow him. "Okay, lemme ask you something first", he started, still looking at his feet. Maybe it was crazy, but he needed to know; he had a feeling he was right about this. "Are wings something really personal? I mean, I've never seen anyone's wings before, not even yours, and mine are like, all over the place. Cause I don't want to walk around looking like an angel man-hooker or something."

Castiel's expression didn't change, but Dean could see he was trying hard to keep his face from showing his emotions – and for a completely expressionless guy like Cas, that was disturbing.

"Was that it? You were ashamed of me seeing your wings?" Cas asked politely.

"Well… yeah. More or less." Dean decided to leave out of the conversation his wish to see Cas' wings. If it was too personal... well, _he_ wouldn't like another dude telling _him_ he wondered how his butt cheeks looked like, or anything like that.

Cas smirked. "Dean, the main reason you can't see anyone else's wings, including mine, is that our Grace and vessels are separate – we can control which parts to show. Your Grace, though, is linked to a body that is truly yours, so it's acting in a completely different way. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, but…" Dean didn't know why he went on talking. His brain was screaming at him to shut the hell up. "…it's not like I'm showing you my… perky muscles, right?" he tried to joke, smirking awkwardly.

Castiel tilted his head. "…I don't understand what you mean".

"I mean…" holy shit, what the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just shut his cake hole? "…is seeing someone's wings like invading his personal space? Like looking at someone's… more private body parts?"

"Since we don't usually look at each other's wings, I'd have to say yes", Cas said, and Dean noticed it was the angel's turn to look somewhere else.

"That's just great", said Dean sarcastically.

"Do you feel uncomfortable?" asked Cas.

"No. I mean yes. I mean, I don't know", replied Dean. "It's not like I ever learnt that I wasn't supposed to let anyone see my freaking _wings_ or they'd ever gimme an anatomically correct doll with wingies and ask me where the bad guy touched me", why wouldn't he shut up? "…so I don't know, it just feels weird cause _now _I know what it must be like for you, I mean I wouldn't ever show you my junk and expect of you to –" okay, that was enough. He was happy it was daylight outside, cause he was sure that his face was so red that it could easily glow in the dark. He cleared his throat. "What I'm saying is, it's just a little weird, man."

Holy freaking mother of balls, what the hell was all this blabber about? That was Cas opposite of him, the guy who'd been rejected by a girl he was paying for sex, and Dean was talking to him like there was some kind of innuendo hidden somewhere between his feathers. Cas couldn't have known an innuendo if it hit him in the face with a sledge hammer. And shit, Cas was right. If Dean freaked out over controlling his wings, something that was supposedly so simple, how could he ever get to do anything more?

His face must have reflected his thoughts, because Castiel made another gesture and the white light showed up again, putting the furniture in place and repairing the broken glass in the window and the mirror, even the lamp. Was it Dean's idea or Sam had indeed flinched at the squeaking sounds? He turned to Castiel.

"Cas, what are you doing?"

"I apologise, Dean", he said. "I hadn't done this before. It is obvious that this is not the right way to teach you." Dean watched speechless, as Castiel calmly took off his trench coat, left it on a chair and looked around as if in search of something.

"What –" Dean's jaw dropped when Cas unhooked his belt and slided it off his pants. He then came closer and Dean missed a step as he backed away.

"What the –"

"Take off yours too, Dean", Cas said, as he held his belt in front of him. Dean felt his throat drying out completely.

"Dude, you haven't been watching the Pizza Man again lately, have you?" he croaked as Cas came even closer and his own backing away led him onto the wall. Shit.

Cas only tilted his head again. "I have no idea what that has to do with your training", he said, his face so serious that Dean was seriously scared shitless. "Fold your wings close to your body, if you please."

"What?"

"That's it, thank you."

Castiel, in Dean's surprise, wrapped the belt around Dean's chest, under his armpits, holding the folded wings inside the bondage.

Dean had no idea why he had freaked out. If anyone else had ever done the same thing he wouldn't have… or would he? He also had no idea why he was very,_ very_ aware that Cas was very close to him, trying to put the belt around Dean's wings in a place where he wouldn't accidentally pull any feathers.

Cas backed away. "Is that comfortable?"

Dean coughed and tried to move. "Yeah. Yeah, it's cool."

"Now can you wrap your own belt around your waist so you can keep your wings close to your back's curve?"

Dean obeyed. What the fuck was wrong with him? His face was probably still red as fuck.

When he was finished, he looked up. "Okay, I'm ready", he said.

"That's good", said Cas simply. He handed Dean his trench coat. "This should cover them."

Dean took it, still surprised. "If you guys don't all wear dirty trench coats, I don't know how this is angel training to you", he commented, hoping he was sounding like his usual self.

"We're going out", Cas said.

"What?"

He watched as Cas touched Sam's hand and his brother disappeared from Dean's sight.

"He's in your car", Cas said before Dean could say anything. "It will do you good to take it for a ride, since it's something you enjoy this much, and I know you wouldn't let your brother here. So, we're all going out. There's a meadow on the hill nearby that will do just fine."

Dean grabbed his jacket and threw it to Cas; he didn't have time to take his belongings from the pockets, Sam was alone in the Impala and Dean didn't have any intention of leaving him like that for more than was necessary. "And why do we have to go all the way to a meadow?" he asked, taking a handgun from a rucksack and placing it in one of the coat's pockets – damn, they were deep.

"It's an open space, and it will be easier for you to concentrate when you're closer to nature", Cas said, as his eyes examined Dean's jacket like he hadn't seen anything like it before. "Also, you're not putting anyone in danger if you practise far from civilisation. I found the meadow this morning. I thought it might be hard for you to control your Grace from the start, so I searched for a place to go when we'd need it."

"Thanks for trusting me, dude", said Dean sarcastically and walked to the room's door.

"I do trust you, Dean", said Cas absent-mindedly as he – seriously? – wore Dean's jacket. "I'm just seeing a little ahead".

Dean didn't answer to that, neither said anything about Cas wearing his jacket. He didn't mind. He opened the door and pulled Cas out of the room, then locked behind him. The mirror in the end of the narrow, dirty corridor was telling him that he looked a little fatter, but in no way could anyone imagine there were freaking wings under his coat. Unless he started to molt. But he needn't think about that.

They hurried downstairs, where it looked exactly the same as the night they'd checked in. Well, for Dean it was a little weirder, filled with all the new colours and auras, but he could tell nothing had changed. He found it hard to believe that after all this that had happened to him, the people in the motel's café kept chatting and the chubby lady in the reception was still smiling politely to the customers. Dean thought he'd heard her name, was it… Laura? Laurel? He wasn't sure.

"Going away, boys?" she sang out towards them.

"Yes", said Dean and approached her. "Look, I don't know when we'll be back, we'll probably be late, but we're not checking out, okay?"

"Of course, dear", she replied. "Everything okay up there? I thought I heard some noise before".

"It was nothing, really", said Dean, smiling as best as he could. "I'd bought a swan-shaped vase as a present for my Aunt Millie and my silly brother broke it. We picked up the pieces, don't worry. Can you skip the house-keeping for today?"

"Oh". She seemed a little surprised, but didn't lose her smile. "Of course, darling".

"Thanks", said Dean and pushed Castiel out of the motel.

"Have fun!" the lady shouted after them.

_**Extra**_

Mrs Loreley watched the boys as they were leaving the building and sighed, still grinning.

"Watching happy couples again, Mrs Loreley?" she heard Sally's voice, as she was coming out of the kitchen, wiping her wet hands in her apron.

"Oh, they're just so adorable, dear", she said, turning to look at the young waitress. "Look at how happy they are!"

Sally looked out the window and scanned the parking lot with her stare.

"What, the guys over there?"

Mrs Loreley nodded happily.

"Well, if you say so", said Sally and shrugged. "Wasn't the tall dude with another, even taller dude yesterday? I remember cause the gangly guy hit his head on a chandelier crystal that was hanging a little low."

"Oh, yes", answered Mrs Loreley, "that was his brother, I think. That guy, the shy one, _that's _his boyfriend. You should have seen the precious darling this morning, coming to me to ask for some breakfast to take upstairs. He was all blushed, my sweetheart".

"Dunno", said Sally, "I'm still kinda disappointed that such macho men go to waste."

"Oh, but they don't go to waste, dear", Mrs Loreley said happily, "they have each other to enjoy. You should have seen them; they're wearing each other's clothes. They're so cute I want to hug them."

She sighed dreamily again and, seeing she didn't have anything else to do, she gave herself a break and sat in a café table, opening her _Pride and Prejudice _copy to the page she'd left it.


	4. Chapter 4

_**There have been some little corrections in the previous chapters. Not much, just some mistakes that I noticed afterwards, they've been corrected.  
Cheers ^^**_

_**Chapter 4**_

"Man! That feels good!"

Dean was standing in the middle of the meadow, eyes closed, Castiel's trench coat and binding belts off, stretching his wings behind him as much as possible. The afternoon spring breeze felt much more refreshing than any other time, like he hadn't experienced it before. God, he was so worried about Sam that he had forgotten the wings were not the only thing that came with the angel package. He could literally feel the subtle wind on every single feather. Even his skin felt brand new – he had the same scars, the same tattoo, but it was just… more sensitive, more able to notice changes in the atmosphere.

He breathed the forest air deeply and opened his eyes – was it just him or Cas did indeed turn his look away from him in a hurry? Nah, couldn't be.

Dean spread his wings at his sides and turned his head to look at them properly for the first time.

Holy shit.

Okay, he was never the one to take pride at his looks. He knew he didn't look half bad, but he never really cared enough to actually feel good about his image. But this… he would never say that to anyone, but dude, that was more than awesome. That was… beautiful. No matter how weird he felt for thinking something like that about himself, he couldn't help it; it really was.

Each wing was about five feet long. Their blondish brown colour looked almost golden in the direct sunlight; the flight feathers were marked with some darker spots that reminded Dean of a hawk.

He wondered vaguely if he was supposed to have white, fluffy wings that would be ideal for hugging the shit out of little girls. He didn't care; this looked _badass_.

He gave them a couple of flaps, as a test. He was happy to find out he could control their movement almost perfectly; he was also excited to feel the air's resistance on them. It was a pity he needed to hide them.

He looked back at Castiel, who was just sitting next to the car, staring at Sam sleeping in the back seat. He was still wearing Dean's jacket. He looked at Dean, as if he knew his private time was over.

"I see you're doing well", he said encouragingly. "Do you want to start practicing?"

"Yeah, okay", agreed Dean. "Do I start imagining me looking normal again?"

"Exactly the opposite", said Cas, and Dean was sure he could spot the amusement in his voice. "I think your term for my approach to you is… psychology. Unless you take it out of your system, you won't be able to work with your Grace properly. You need to learn how to use it before you learn how to hide it."

"What do you mean?" asked Dean, genuinely confused.

"…also, it's not fair to keep secrets from you", continued Cas, as if he hadn't heard Dean. "I might be more experienced, but you're partly angel now, which hardly makes me your superior. And I owe you this."

Dean really couldn't tell where Castiel was going with that. "…you owe me what?"

Castiel took off Dean's jacket; Dean didn't know why, but that made him a little sad. Cas took off the rest of his upper body clothes and stood opposite of Dean.

"If your eyes hurt, shut them immediately and turn your face away, understand?" Cas asked. Dean nodded and took a couple of steps back.

Castiel turned his face towards the sky and closed his eyes. At first the only thing Dean could sense was a subtle change in the wind. Then the wind grew stronger and there was no doubt, the white light Dean had seen before was surrounding the angel.

Dean found out that he could look directly at Castiel without an effort. Somehow he knew he was the only one who could see the light. His eyes didn't hurt; they were craving for more. It was the most amazing think he'd ever seen. He suddenly felt actually blessed for being able to experience something like this.

Then the light grew stronger and Dean had to narrow his eyes. He could make out the vague shape of the angel between his eyelids but no more than that. The world he was seeing was made of pure light and wind.

And then the wind became a breeze again and the light faded, and Castiel was just standing in front of him; Dean's jaw dropped.

If he thought his own wings were beautiful, then words weren't enough to describe what he was seeing now. Castiel's vessel had welcomed the wings on his back. They were longer and wider than Dean's, giving all in all a four-metre wingspan or so. Their colour was such a deep blue-black that Dean almost expected to see constellations glowing inside them. They didn't remind him of any bird; they were truly an angel's wings. The whole body of the angel seemed to radiate some kind of positive energy – his face was brighter than Dean had ever seen it before; he realised that was what a halo must look like. He didn't know what to say.

Castiel shifted his position a little bit. "Dean?"

Dean snapped out of it and brought his jaw back to its proper place. "Yeah."

"It just didn't seem right for you to have exposed yourself to me in so many ways and not having gotten anything in return", Castiel said, in that matter-of-fact tone of his. "Your very soul was in my hands once, and since then you've trusted me with your life and your brother's several times. I was the cause for your body to be altered so dramatically, and still you've asked for nothing. So here I am, exposing myself to you. Take it as a way of saying thank you. And as an expression of my own trust towards you."

Dean couldn't think of anything to say; every possible word had abandoned him. He didn't think Castiel actually _owed _him anything – hell, Cas had fallen from Heaven for him and Sam and because he trusted them. How could Dean not trust him, even if it meant going through a physical change?

Besides, this wasn't so bad. Even if it had been, how could he not do it? His own situation was something he could easily get used to, but seeing Sam turn into a monster wasn't an option. Nobody had said about this whole Grace thing being permanent, anyway – he wasn't an angel. He had a body of his own, and he was thirsty and sweaty and _human_. It wasn't such a big deal, especially compared to what Castiel had done for him. How could Cas actually feel guilty about it?

"Cas, I –"

"You're making progress really fast, Dean", Castiel interrupted him, "surprisingly fast. So I believe eight days are far more than enough to heal Sam. I'm going to give you some hours to yourself, after the first lesson."

Dean didn't try to continue his previous phrase. He didn't know what he wanted to say, anyway. "So what is the first lesson, Cas?" he asked.

Castiel approached him and placed his hand exactly over his own handprint on Dean's shoulder. "You're going to learn how to fly."

Before Dean could say anything, Castiel teleported them – or, that's what Dean would think in any other case. Now he actually saw Cas' wings move, spread, flap loudly and making the both of them soar – it didn't take more than a second, but Dean saw it. And then he was hanging above the clouds, the forest just a dot to him, held there only by Castiel's grip.

"SONOFA –"

Dean wrapped his arms instinctively around the angel's chest and slid down to his waist, as he felt his own wings flapping clumsily behind him. He felt heavy and awkward, and the fact that his face was attached to a freaking male chest didn't help – and maybe it wasn't the time for this, but Dean couldn't stop himself for feeling bad after noticing the almost non-existent scars of a banishing sigil that was once self-carved by the angel with a fucking razorblade on that very chest – for _him._ For a moment he could swear he'd fall.

"Cas, a little help here!" he cried out.

"Calm down, Dean", said Castiel and carefully took Dean's hands from his back, where they were clasped together, and slowly brought them in a position where Dean could unattach himself from him. Cas was really strong – no surprise there; Dean wasn't hanging, Cas was actually just holding his hands and keeping him in the air.

"Okay, now what?" shouted Dean, trying to be heard over the sound of the wind and trying to ignore the fact that they probably looked like a Disney couple, holding hands and flying together. He'd probably laugh if he wasn't so fucking terrified.

"Now, watch", Cas said and, still holding Dean, he flew even higher. Dean made an effort to focus his attention on the angel's wings and not his vessel. They were beating hard and raising the both of them higher and higher.

Dean knew Castiel wasn't even close to his limit – this was casual for him, even though Dean had the impression that they were going faster than the Impala could ever take them. He realised he wasn't cold, even though it was supposed to be freezing up here. He tried to follow Castiel's wings' movement with his own, like learning dance moves.

"That's it, Dean", he heard the angel's voice.

Dean was encouraged; he tried beating his wings even harder. His shoulder blades hurt from the effort. It was like trying to lift a hundred kilos without exercising for a long time. He realised him and Cas were perfectly synchronised; their wings were moving in turns so that they wouldn't meet and disturb the flight or each other. Each and every feather of Dean's could feel the wind on it and was sending shocks of excitement through his entire body.

"Cas, I think I've got it!" he shouted.

"I know, Dean."

And then Castiel's fingers untangled themselves from Dean's, and Dean was falling.

Holy shit, that was what speed was supposed to feel like. He felt a flutter in his stomach for a moment, but didn't panic. He turned head down and let his wings spread in order to slow down a little bit, and then he beat them hard and took flight on his own.

He made a few testing circles. Yeah, it was like learning how to ride a bike; he was a little unsure, but he definitely could do it. All he needed was to find his balance and get used to it, and then it would be a piece of cake. He slowed down and looked around; left, right, up left, up ahead – there he was.

Dean made an effort and flew towards Castiel, who was floating casually, smiling. The light surrounding his body had faded by now.

"Dude, this is awesome!" shouted Dean excitedly. He let out a loud laugh, coming from the depths of his heart.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, Dean", commented Cas, and Dean knew he meant it. He could see it on the angel's face. For some reason – well, he could guess what reason – the angel's feelings were much easier to decipher than they had been before. Dean laughed again.

"No, man, I really mean it", he said and came even closer, mimicking Castiel and settling for a subtle float instead of flight, "this is one of the most amazing experiences of my life. It's like riding the Impala on an empty road, being able to go as fast as I want, only a thousand times better, y'know, cause I'm doing it on my own and I can go wherever the hell I want, and I don't need to be careful to not hit anyone. I never thought it would be this awesome."

Castiel's smile widened. "I'm happy for you, Dean."

"Yeah", was the only thing Dean found to say. "Hey, Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Can I give it another go before I come down to Sam?"

Castiel didn't seem surprised. "Of course you can. I'll go make sure nothing wakes your brother. I highly doubt it, but anything could happen. Take care", he said and turned his back at Dean.

Dean watched him as he stopped moving his wings for a moment, diving freely for a couple hundred feet, more gracefully than any man falling from the sky could ever achieve, and then spreading his wings and flying towards the ground.

Dean didn't watch the angel land. Cas would take care of Sam, wouldn't he? And Dean needed to learn how to control his powers before he tried to heal his brother. So till he was sure he could handle the whole angel thing, he'd have to practice.

He didn't mind. At all.

He took flight again, going higher and higher. He wondered what height he could reach.

He soared until his body was soaked in sweat, until the sky was darkening around him, until he could see more clouds than ground below him, until he realised he was out of breath. Was it because of the non-stop flying for so long, was it because there was less oxygen up here, he couldn't tell. He noticed his sweat crystallising on his skin.

He stopped and floated for a while to catch his breath. Learn how to fly, check. It was awesome and he was really good at it.

He wondered if, besides the whole new colour spectrum, and the wings, and the ability to peek at an angel's true form, and the new sensibility to angel moods and movements and to nature, if he had gotten anything else. It wasn't so much greed –cause let's face it, all these were totally awesome and he'd be more than fine with having them and nothing more – as curiosity. Like, Cas was a proper angel and he could do all sorts of things. Teleport (well, super-fast-almost-teleport-flight, as Dean had discovered, but it counted), telekinesis, putting people to sleep by just a touch, super-fast healing, exorcizing demons, the whole my-Grace-is-a-fucking-white-light-brighter-than-the-sun, all that stuff and more. Was it possible Dean had gotten a couple of these too?

Well, no demons or people around, and nothing to help him try his possible fast healing abilities. He remembered Cas concentrating to show him a part of his Grace in the form of a pair of wings and a full-body halo.

Alright, he could try out his own little bits of Grace. He couldn't think of something to happen, since his wings were already out and all over the place, but it was the only thing he could try without having to land; he hated the idea of landing so soon. Besides, wasn't he supposed to be getting used to his angel bits? Well, that's what he would do.

He concentrated on the mental image of Castiel radiating the white light. He was sure, that was what connecting to your Grace and completely controlling it looked like. He tried to spot the white glow inside him.

He was surprised to feel it very quickly. Look at that, Cas was right; it really was easier after learning to control his wings. He tried to make it wrap around him, like Castiel had done before.

Dean noticed a rise in the temperature. His body welcomed the light's warmth. He actually saw it radiating through his hands. He let out a laugh.

Oh, this was amazing. He felt healthy, and warm, and powerful. Not only he could heal Sam, he could do anything he wanted. Nobody else would ever have to die on his watch. His Grace would protect anyone he wished to save. Hell, imagine what he could do with this new power. He'd smite the crap out of any monster that would ever bother anyone again. He'd make that witch who dared fuck with his brother burn.

The white light wrapped itself all around Dean's body.

Dean realised he was breathing heavily. He needed to calm down, he wasn't thinking straight. The hell with the witch. Sam was down there and he needed his help. He needed to turn off the light and put it back in.

Only he couldn't.

The light felt hotter and hotter, consuming him. Dean was too panicked to concentrate. What the hell was he doing? He had to get down – no, it was too dangerous. What if someone saw him? What if he burnt someone's eyes out?

He felt his head spin. Everything was white and hot. No more colours, no more cold wind.

He lost his balance and felt his body being swallowed by the light.

"Cas!" he cried, before the white darkness took over him. And then, silence.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey, guys : )  
Seems this is going to be longer than I originally thought. It actually gets a plot and it's getting a little out of me. I hope you're still enjoying it, though._

_As a new writer, I'd appreciate every single opinion, even a negative one, just to see how I'm doing and how could I make it better._

_Also, I'm not sure about the category. I mean, it's mostly about Dean and Cas, but I don't think there's enough romance to be put in that category. Yet I want to have a warning for people who are not looking for Destiel shipping. What do you think, should I change it?_

_Anyway thanks a lot for reading this far, enjoy the new chapter!_

_**Chapter 5**_

"Dean?"

_No._

"Dean! Wake up!"

_Go scream somewhere else, you feathered freak. Don't you see I'm tryin' sleep here?_

"Dean, please. Can you hear me? Just move an eyelid or something to know you're alive!"

Dean didn't open his eyes. He was still half-drifting in the sleep world, and to be honest, he had no intention of waking up. It was cozy there. The familiar, rough voice could go screw itself.

"For God's sake, Cas, he won't wake! Do something!"

Wait, something was wrong.

A deep, hoarse voice.

Asking him to wake up.

"I can't do anything. He has to snap out of it himself. He's lucky to be alive."

And another deep, hoarse voice.

Not the same as the first one.

Because the first one wasn't gruff just because that's how it should be.

It was rough because it was tired, and worried…

…_and sleeping for a couple of days straight._

Dean's eyes opened wide.

"Oh my GOD!" he heard the voice yell, but couldn't see anything through the whiteness blinding his eyes.

A gentle hand covered his eyes and the world went black again.

"Sammy?" he tried to yell. He tried to get the hand away from his face, but his limbs felt too heavy to lift. Now that he was waking, he was starting to freak out.

"Shh", he heard a reassuring whisper and he knew it was Castiel covering his eyes. He felt the hand warm on his brow and his half-asleep mind recognized some Enochian whispers.

"Try opening your eyes again", Castiel's voice said, softly and concerned.

Dean opened his eyes and he met a blurry, weak light coming from between Cas' fingers.

"Dude, take your hand off of me", he said, trying to sound confident – he failed miserably.

"What's happening?" he heard Sam's voice from somewhere in his left. "Is he okay?"

"Sammy? Is that you?"

"Easy now, Dean".

The hand was slowly removed. The first thing Dean saw was the night sky. Damn, he was tired of missing out on time passing. He hoped it was still today and not tomorrow.

He turned his head weakly to his left. "Sammy?" he demanded once more.

"Yes, Dean", he heard his brother's voice and a shuffling of fallen leaves as he crawled closer.

"OW!"

"Sorry, dude, your feathers are freaking everywhere".

Dean focused his eyes on his brother's silhouette. Yeah, it was Sam. Awake. Why the hell was Sam awake?

He tried to take notes of what was happening. He saved the "Sam was freaking awake and stepping on his feathers" thing for later. Castiel was kneeling beside him, sitting on the small spot left between his torso and his spread wing's angle. Castiel's wings were nowhere to be seen.

And Dean was feeling fucking terrible.

"What the hell happened?" he managed to spell out, his voice all throaty.

"I'm sorry for closing your eyes by force", came an uneasy answer from Castiel, "your Grace was still burning through your eyes. It wasn't so dangerous as to burn Sam's eyes out, but it wouldn't do him any good, either."

Dean shook his head. Did Cas even _understand _what he was trying to say?

"I mean, what happened _before that,_ Cas? And why the hell is Sam awake?"

"Excuse me for worrying about you, you jerk".

"Shut the fuck up, Sammy."

"Dean", said Castiel in a strict tone, "what did you do when you were alone up there?"

Dean didn't answer at once. What _had _he been doing up there? He remembered flying very, very high, and he remembered wanting to try something new, and then… the white light.

God, that had felt awesome. It was amazing. Until he lost control and the darkness came.

"I… I fell", he managed to say.

"For fuck's sake, Dean, only you could be an angel for less than a day and still manage to fall", Sam said. Dean didn't reply. He knew Sam well enough to know these comments were only a desperate try to convince them that he was fine. Dean felt the rage for himself burning inside him. He started out saving Sam; how the fuck did it turn out to Sam being worried about him?

"Yes, I know you fell, Dean", said Castiel patiently. "Thank Goodness you called my name when you were falling so I could catch you before you crashed."

"Wait, I didn't crash?" Dean said, honestly confused.

"Of course not", Sam said. "You'd be in pieces now if you'd fallen from God knows how many thousand feet you were flying at."

"Then what –"

"You tried to summon all the angelic power inside you at once", Castiel explained. "Or that's what I assume from all the Grace overflowing from your body when I caught you. Which also explains the light coming out of your eyes. You're still leaking".

"I'm still what?"

"You weren't ready to do that yet, Dean", Castiel said, and Dean could see the sincere sadness in his eyes. "I shouldn't have left you alone. It was my fault for thinking you would stick to flying. I didn't consider how intoxicating Grace must be to a human being. I apologize."

Dean couldn't believe Cas was actually apologizing for this. "And… Sam?" he asked.

"Oh." Castiel and Sam shared a look. "Your brother woke up when I flew to get you. I believe it must be because my whole attention went to catching you. And –" he stopped.

"What? And what?"

"Nothing", said Sam quickly.

"Yeah, right", said Dean and forced his body to raise enough so that he could sit on his elbows. "And what?"

"Well –" started Castiel and he shared another look with Sam.

"Dude, I'm not blind! What the fuck?" yelled Dean.

"I kinda felt you were in danger", said Sam.

Dean eyeballed him. "Say what?"

"Dean, Sam seems to have developed more… enhanced senses", said Cas reluctantly. "He's emotionally connected to you, so when my attention was drawn away from keeping him asleep for a second, when I went to get you, he woke up from his instinct to save you."

Dean frowned, but didn't comment on that. Well, at least Sam's first werewolf instinct wasn't to rip their throats off. It either was too early for him to go nuts or Castiel's magical sleep session had done its job.

"You should rest, Dean", said the angel.

"No - dude! no", Dean said and sat up, folding his wings – shit, they were sore. Like a long day in the gym after not working out for months. "I screwed up, okay? I should be taking care of Sam and I made him wake up instead! I don't need to rest, I'm fine. I've slept enough", he said and tried to get up on his feet.

Castiel pushed him back down. "No", he said. "You were almost blown to pieces up there. You need to rest".

"Cas, just… fuck you, okay?" exploded Dean. "I'm sorry, alright? You have no idea how sorry I am! Just let me make it up!"

"You can't make it up by straining yourself, Dean", said Sam. Dean looked at him and felt his chest sink. He looked so tired. And sick.

"Sammy –"

"Shut up, you don't need to say anything", said Sam. "Dude, you wanted to help me so much that you grew _freaking wings, _it's okay if it got a little out of you. Just rest a little."

"I'm tired of passing out", murmured Dean.

"Then I apologise in advance for this", said Cas.

The last thing Dean saw that night were Castiel's fingertips approaching his brow.

…

"Thanks", said Sam.

"For what?"

"For everything. Taking care of Dean. Not telling him about the howl. You know. Everything."

"Don't mention it."

"I mean, you lied to him."

"I am aware."

"Thanks."

"I said, don't mention it."

Sam and Castiel were sitting on a bench by the parking lot. They'd teleported back to the motel room a couple of hours ago, put Dean in his bed and made sure he was safely resting. The Impala had been teleported back to the parking lot and she waited patiently in her place for her master to come get her. Castiel had let Sam take a shower, and they'd gone out with a six pack of beers. They really needed to clear their heads.

Sam took a sip of his beer, but he felt he wanted to throw up. He ignored his growing appetite and his craving for red meat – he especially ignored his desire for the meat to be half-roasted.

It was too much to bear.

He remembered little from the fight the previous morning. He knew there were werewolves, and he knew one had bitten him, and he remembered a little from the spasms. And then he was just dreaming. Wild dreams, disturbing dreams. Dreams that made his skin burn and his mouth drool and his mind drift away and hide inside dark forests.

He had felt some of the things happening around him while he was asleep. He had noticed something had happened to Dean, and he knew he was placed inside the Impala, and he was absolutely sure they were near a forest, and there were many animals in the forest – he had _smelled _all those things. It wasn't much, but he could tell between his dreams.

And then the force keeping him in his weird dreamland wasn't strong enough to keep him there, and he'd woken up howling – his pack was in danger. His Alpha was in mortal danger. He needed to do something.

He remembered seeing Castiel, and coming back to his senses – he was Sam, Sam Winchester, a human being, and he had a pale, freaked, wide-eyed angel in front of him, and the howl he was hearing was coming out of his own throat. He had stopped suddenly, and he had heard a distant scream for help. Cas was gone, and then he was back again, his arms wrapped around an unconscious Dean.

A winged, definitely not human Dean.

Sam had felt his body empty and then filling with rocks. He couldn't possibly walk, but no matter how Castiel was shouting for him to stay in the car, that it was not safe for him to come close to his brother – he wasn't even sure which brother it wasn't safe for, maybe for both – he had crawled off the Impala, calling Dean's name. His head was spinning from the weird dreams, and the instincts, and the new smells and sounds all over him. For a moment he was surrounded by two weird beings, smelling weird, but made of meat.

_No, that's the Alpha, we respect the Alpha. And _that_'s stronger than us; we'd better be good to it._

He had slapped himself to get rid of the dog thoughts.

Feathers. Feathers everywhere.

He definitely had asked Castiel what had happened. He didn't remember him talking, because his mind was full with images of his brother glowing in the dark and molting. He did remember something about Dean taking advantage of some Grace left inside him from when Cas had pulled him out of hell, but then it was all screaming Dean's name and Cas' arms stopping him from getting closer.

And then Dean was awake and holy crap there was light coming out of his eyes. Sam was glad to hear his brother cursing and shouting and calling him Sammy. No matter how weird and non-human his scent was, he was still Dean, that was for sure.

He had found that his brother's voice was keeping him from going back to the dog thoughts. He had pulled himself together and tried to think logically. He should be looking at the wings in Dean's back and the weird eye-exploding thing, not _sniffing him, _to figure if he was human or not. In the end, who cared of he was human or not, it was still Dean and he needed help. They needed to act very quickly.

Well, this was over now. Sam felt a lot better. He had a beer in his hand, and Dean was safe. He looked at the moon and immediately knew he had a week. It was a long time. They'd figure something out for him too. If Dean had almost gotten himself killed from trying to save him, then Sam intended to get himself saved. If not for anything else, then he'd do it so that Dean wouldn't have to deal with that angel crap anymore. It wasn't doing him any good. Humans weren't supposed to have Grace. It was unnatural.

He looked at Cas. The angel was sitting silent, as usual. His trench coat was back on.

"Why didn't you tell him about the howl?" Sam asked.

Cas kept looking at the beer bottle he was holding. "I didn't think it was necessary. It would upset him, especially in the condition he was in."

"Right."

"Yes."

"Because his condition was pretty bad."

"…yes."

"And he's in it because of us."

"That is incorrect."

"Oh, really?" Sam was starting to get mad.

"Yes."

"I went and got myself bitten. You had him take angel steroids to fix me, when you knew he couldn't possibly stand it. Basically _I got myself bitten. _How is it not our fault?"

"Sam, these things happen", Cas said, and for the first time that night, he looked directly into Sam's eyes. "A witch wanted revenge on your brother for killing her sister some years ago. It was obvious that she'd have the monster she's controlling attack _you_. It's one of those 'an eye for an eye' things. They happen to the best hunters. I just found a possible way to save you, and Dean took the deal. It was my duty to tell him the only possibility I could think of, as… as a friend."

"You knew he was going to take it."

"Yes. That's why I told him."

"Is it really the only way?"

"It's the only way that might work, yes."

Sam tried to swallow the knot in his throat. "Is it –"

"What?"

"Is it permanent? I mean, for Dean. Will he stay like this like, forever?"

Castiel sighed and didn't answer.

"Cas!"

"No. Maybe. I don't know."

"What the hell do you mean, you don't know?"

"I was surprised too to see Dean sprouting wings like that. Sam, he did it like it was the most natural thing in the world", Cas said. "All I was expecting was for him to be like –" he stopped; he drank a third of his beer at once.

"Like what?"

Castiel's stare pierced Sam. "Like the angelic equivalent of the demonic abilities you once possessed."

Sam took a deep breath and looked at his beer again. "Right."

"I expected him to get some healing powers, and maybe become a little stronger, or become a little more sensitive to angelic activity, but he transformed completely. I honestly had no idea this would happen. Or that it _could_ even happen."

"Why didn't you tell him in the first place?"

Castiel didn't say anything.

"Cas?"

"I believe because… I was happy."

Sam blinked. "Happy?"

"Yes."

"You were happy to see my brother transforming?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Castiel hesitated. "I don't know."

"Cas, come on."

Castiel's face hardened. "I don't need to tell you this. All that matters is that it happened, and all we can do is take advantage of it. The more powerful your brother is, the more chances we have to fix you."

Sam didn't insist. He would never admit it, but crap, this time he really wanted to be fixed. He remembered Madison and felt his spine crawling with snakes. But he really couldn't stand the thought of Dean staying this way.

"So… is he like a proper angel now?" he dared ask.

"No more than you are a werewolf."

"But I'm about to become one, if we're not careful."

"You have your answer."

"Is it really possible? For any human, not just Dean. Is it possible to become an angel?"

Cas took a sip of his beer. "No."

Sam wrapped his jacket around him. Cas' scent was too alien for this world; Sam couldn't sense if he was lying or not. He shook his head to stop himself from thinking like that and emptied his bottle. He could see splashes of pink and white on the East sky. It had been a long night.

He could never imagine how long the day would be.


	6. Chapter 6

_First of all, if you're reading this, I wanna thank you for following this story this far._

_Sorry to have taken so long to put in the Destiel, but the plot goes wherever it wants and I swear, it's possessing me. I write before I go to sleep and it's like I'm drunk. I kinda wanna see where it's taking me. Don't worry, there's a lot of lovely stuff in the end of the journey. I just have to start giving you guys something. Let's see how it goes._

_Also, I'm kinda disappointed that nobody pointed out anything about Mrs Loreley :P For me, she's the definition of a Tumblr shipper in her forties. I imagined she would be more liked. Oh well, you're not getting rid of her, cause I freakin love the woman._

_In this chapter, I'm trying to satisfy some curiosity about what Castiel has to say for all this._

_**Chapter 6**_

"Good morning, sweetheart!"

Dean's eye twitched at the voice of the ultra-cheerful reception lady, but he kept himself together and turned towards her with a fake smile, trying to be as charming as possible.

"'mornin', Mrs… eh- Laurie".

"Loreley, dear. Like the German mermaid", she said happily. If she'd been bothered by him not remembering her name, she didn't show it. "Not that I look like a mermaid, of course", she giggled, "but you should have seen me in my teens", and she winked playfully. Dean's only thought was _how the hell are you so chirpy at 8 in the morning, woman_, and he desperately tried to keep his mind there and _not let it _go towards an image of Mrs Loreley in a mermaid tail and a pushup shell bra.

"Yes, Mrs Loreley. Sorry", he said and kept fake-smiling. "Sorry to bother you this early, but have you seen my brother – the really tall guy with the freaky sideburns – or the guy I was with last night? Are they around?"

"Oh, yes, darling", said Mrs Loreley. "They took their breakfast outside; I believe they're at the parking lot. I told them to stay and enjoy it in the café, but they seemed to need a little bit of fresh air."

Dean looked out the window, scanning the parking lot. Yes, that hairy head sticking out above everything else couldn't belong to anyone but Sam.

He looked back at the smiling lady. "Thanks, Mrs Loreley. Um, can I also get breakfast to go? I sorta need to get back to those guys."

"They informed me already", she said and took out from somewhere behind the reception desk a paper bag, and handed it to Dean. "Fresh pie and a couple of doughnuts. Your coffee will be ready soon", she added and made a gesture to a passing waitress, who nodded in reply.

Dean looked the bag like it had come from another planet. The smiling reception lady received another similar look. "Uh. Thanks", he managed to say.

"Don't mention it, dear", said Mrs Loreley. "They really take care of you, those two. I'm impressed, I have to admit. We didn't even notice you boys coming back last night. I thought you spent the night somewhere else".

Dean convinced himself he hadn't seen the wink. Was his fake smile getting creepy yet or what? "Uh, yeah", he said, "we made sure we didn't wake anyone".

"That's so thoughtful of you, dear", she smiled. "Oh, and by the way, would you like to move to another room?"

Dean was caught off guard. "What? Why?"

"You might want to be more comfortable", she shrugged. "I can give you a room with two beds again, so you don't have to pay an additional fee, but I can arrange it so that one of the beds is larger. I can understand you boys probably can't afford a three-bed room, but it's a pity to pile yourselves in there."

"A three-bed – oh", it dawned on him. "No, thank you, it's just me and my brother. The other guy doesn't stay in the motel; of course he'd pay if that was the case. We're not taking advantage of you guys or anything."

"But he seems to be around a lot, and I just thought you might want to be just… you know… more _comfortable. _You're tall boys; I don't know how you fit in the bed."

Dean was starting to believe that not both of the participants in this discussion were mentally healthy; either he was too dizzy from yesterday or Mrs Loreley had been drinking, because he really couldn't follow. "How… we fit?"

"You can push the two beds together, of course", she said. "Oh, and you might wanna use this", she gave him a "do not disturb :)" doorknob sign, "because the day before yesterday one of the cleaning girls almost walked up on you. She heard the noise and she got worried – she still swears she heard glasses breaking, even though we didn't find anything afterwards. So, just to avoid anything uncomfortable…"

Her smile was so wide, and innocent, and honest, that for a second Dean didn't realise what she was saying. Then he could swear he heard glasses breaking inside his brain. His jaw dropped. "Wha – wait, we – I mean –"

"Here's your coffee, I'll add the fee to your checkout bill", he heard a female voice saying while a paper cup of hot coffee was placed in his hand. He looked back at Mrs Loreley; he was sure his eyes must have looked like teacup saucers.

"Look, you got it all wrong, we –"

"Don't worry, honey", she said and hung the doorknob sign on his coffee hand. "You can do whatever you want. Just give me a heads-up so that I know where to put you. Now I'd suggest you went out, you have company waiting for you."

"But I –"

"Off you go."

Dean left, his jaw still half open, striding quickly to avoid a possible slap on the butt cheek.

…

"I'm gonna freakin' kill you!"

"Good morning to you too, bro."

"Your turn is coming soon, sasquatch. Lemme deal with our angel boy first."

"I'm all ears, Dean."

Dean growled. He was more pissed than he could describe. Or explain. Why was he so upset? No matter. He needed to take it out on something, but Cas and Sam both seem to be in fucking Nirvana right now. They looked like they were having a freakin' English tea party, sitting on a bench with breakfast and everything, like they were on vacation.

"Don't you 'I'm all ears' me", Dean said and the cup of coffee in his hand shook dangerously. "Why'd you put me to sleep last night? I could handle it!"

"No, you couldn't. I believe I've seen enough in my thousands of years to know whether a human is about to explode or not. Sam, you were right, this is rather pleasant for my taste", Cas commented, looking at his cup of hot chocolate.

"Yeah, dude, I can't believe you never had chocolate before", Sam laughed and handed Cas a doughnut from the several he had in front of him. "Here, take this. It's creamy as fuck and I can guarantee it's safe to eat, it smells pretty awesome, nothing nasty in there."

Castiel tilted his head. "Is a sexual intercourse… creamy?"

"Dude, just eat it, before you make me not eat mine, okay?"

"HEY!" Some coffee splashed on the ground as Dean lost control.

"What?"

"Sam, are you fucking serious?" Dean yelled. "Cas kept you asleep for that long for a reason! We've only got one week before you wolf out and you're just sitting here playing 'Feather Boy in Choco-Land'? Are you nuts?"

"Speaking of feathers, there's some I don't see", observed Sam. "What happened to your angel bits?"

Dean was sure his face was full red; that made him even angrier. "I don't know, dude, I just woke up and I was sure I could do it this time, so I just… made them disappear. I mean, not disappear. They're still there. I can still feel them under my clothes. But nobody can see them. That's all."

"Awesome, you're making progress! Cas was just telling me you had a hard time yesterday."

"Well, kinda. Yeah. That's not the point!" Dean exclaimed, pointing his finger at Sam.

Sam leaned toward his brother's hand. "Whoa, 'do not disturb' indeed. Good advice. What's gotten into you?"

Dean placed paper bag, cup and sign on the bench. "How can you not see my point?"

"Dean, chill out", Sam drawled. "I'm fine. It's a _week _until the full moon, we still have time. Plus Cas had fixed some wolf parts of mine when you were asleep the day before yesterday, so I'm more in control than I could ever be without his help, and he's having a bit of a hard time worrying about both of us sleeping at the same time. He's not exactly in his Superman days, and I'm feeling great. A little weird, yes, but look, I'm me! No fangs or claws or bloodlust or anything."

Dean looked at Cas, who seemed to really enjoy his new discovery, and took a little time to watch him. "Are you even supposed to be able to eat?" he asked.

"I don't have a physical need for sustenance, but that doesn't mean I can't allow myself the pleasure every now and then", said Cas, without taking his eyes from his doughnut.

"Is it true, Cas? We're making it hard for you?"

Cas looked up and his eyes met Dean's. Dean cursed that reception lady, even though he didn't really know why.

"Dean, you're not making anything difficult for me. At least, not more than needed", Castiel said. "Yes, helping you connect to your Grace, keeping Sam under control while teaching you how to fly, revealing part of my true form in this world, healing some parts of Sam… all these have tired me. But I will recover soon enough. I only need to rest". He turned his eyes back to his breakfast. "These help".

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at his feet. "You hadn't told me you tried to fix Sam when I was out."

"I told you I'd try."

"But you didn't tell me that you did it."

"I thought it unimportant, since I had informed you already that I _would_ try."

Dean suddenly felt like an idiot. "Sorry, Cas", he mumbled. "I should have thought it would be hard for you too. You did a lot for us these days".

"It's alright."

"I mean it, man."

"I know."

"So, are we cool?"

"Dean, it's hard to care when I'm being blessed by this heavenly pleasure here".

Dean's anger had been drained away, like he'd pulled the plug. He couldn't even remember why he was mad in the first place. Cas should be the one to be mad at Dean, after all his doubts, and the shouting, and the not listening. And look at him.

Damn, Cas really was alien. The pure happiness he was experiencing from a simple cup of hot chocolate and a couple of doughnuts was freakin' _adorable_.

Okay, what the hell was that?

Dean shook his head. Damn. It was Mrs Loreley's fault. Okay, he and Sam had been going around by themselves for a long time, and they'd gotten some gay comments before. But him and Cas? Seriously? How could she ever think something like that?

How could _he_ ever think about something like that?

_Calm down, calm down. You're just frustrated and angel-drugged, and the lady is just a normal, trying-to-be-supportive reception lady. No need to freak out._

"Duuuuuuude!"

Dean snapped out of it. "What? What is it?"

Sam was looking at him, disgusted, with a half-eaten doughnut hanging from his mouth. "Seriously, is that it? That's why you're acting mad?"

Dean felt his face catching fire. "What are you saying?"

"Man, you _stink_ of sexual frustration. Go and hit on that waitress again to take it out of your system, I'm begging you".

"…I didn't hit on the waitress."

"Yeah, right. As if your hormones would go nuts like this if sex wasn't all over your head."

"Are you freakin' _sniffing my thoughts_, you big freak?"

"I only have one week to enjoy annoying the crap out of you", said Sam, picked up his coffee and folded his legs under him on the bench. "Now _please_ go somewhere away from me. I'm trying to eat here and I've got one of you guys talking of creamy fucking and the other reeking of thinking about it. Just… go somewhere else and talk fuck-y stuff by yourselves, okay?" Sam said and made a shooing gesture.

Dean had never wanted to punch Sam more, but didn't give him the pleasure. He grabbed the bag of doughnuts.

"Hey!"

"No more sugar for you. Makes dogs go blind. Now drink your coffee, there's a good boy." He ignored Sam's middle finger. "Come on, Cas!"

The angel got up, licking the last bits of chocolate from his fingers, and followed Dean into the motel.

…

Dean was pacing up and down the room, his nerves tense, and his mood even worse.

"We should be training me, Cas. This isn't good enough."

"We will start again soon, Dean. We all needed to rest."

"But Sam can freaking smell emotions now! Isn't that weird?"

"No. It's the least that could happen to him, given that he was bitten by a werewolf."

"Did you lock the door?"

"Yes, Dean, I told you I locked it."

"Because that wing-hiding thing is exhausting, man. I just wanna stretch."

"Go ahead."

"Will I make you uncomfortable?"

"No."

"Sure?"

"Dean, I've seen your wings and you've seen mine. Just get it over with. And don't break anything."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Dean moaned. "Ah, yes. That's good. I'm telling you, man, I have no idea how you keep them hidden all the time."

"I'm used to it. And my wings work differently than yours. You have your own body, I'm borrowing one."

"Right. Sure you don't wanna stretch too?"

"Yes."

"Cause now that I know how annoying it is to hide all the time…"

"Thank you, Dean. I'm okay."

"Right."

"Right."

"You _sure_ you locked?"

"Why do you expect the answer to be any different from the previous three times you asked?"

"Okay. I just don't want anyone coming in to clean or anything."

"You could always use that sign the kind lady gave to you, if you want to take an extra precaution."

"No!"

"As you wish."

"And stop staring at the doughnuts."

"My apologies."

Castiel was sitting on the edge of one of the two beds, standing still and waiting for Dean to relax. Dean was having major mood swings ever since he accepted the Grace inside him, and Castiel was starting to wonder if he had made the right choice in suggesting all this to begin with. From the little Castiel had learnt for human emotions and reactions, Dean was very, very frustrated.

The truth was that Castiel was really worried. It was one of the first emotions he had ever learnt to feel, and he knew how to recognise it. Both Winchesters were in a very bad condition.

When Dean was asleep on Tuesday, after his surprising transformation, Castiel had indeed tried to remove some of the werewolf poison from Sam's body. It hadn't been easy. Werewolves are some of the most powerful supernatural creatures, and their effect on a human body is too fast and non-reversible. Dean had been much more compatible with angelic Grace that Castiel could ever imagine, and he'd exhausted him completely. With his Grace so drained from helping Dean finding his own, Castiel wasn't sure he'd manage to help Sam at all.

However, Castiel managed to suck out some of the poison. He spent all sixteen hours that Dean was asleep slowly taking inside him parts of the poison, teleporting outside and spitting them out in the form of energy. When he almost gave a homeless old man a heart attack and he had to take care of him as well, he had to find a more convenient place to get rid of the werewolf venom; he started flying to a meadow he found a couple of miles away. He thought he had hurt some animals while passing by and letting out the poison, but he couldn't afford thinking about them too. Not when the Winchesters were in danger.

Castiel couldn't tell why, but sucking out the venom was harder than he'd expected. Was it because of him having spent a tremendous amount of power on Dean? Was it because it wasn't a simple werewolf, but a witch's minion that had done this to Sam? Could she ever have made it worse than it should be? The point was, maybe it was good that Dean seemed to have gotten more power than Castiel expected. As it seemed, Castiel's powers wouldn't be nearly enough. So yes, he_ was_ happy that Dean had proven himself full of surprises.

Why _had_ Dean transformed so dramatically, though?

Castiel knew from the moment he raised Dean from Hell that the hunter would always bear a little part of his inside him. He knew that it would always be easier for Dean to intercourse with angels. He had been destined to be Michael's vessel after all. Maybe that was why he had sprouted wings. It was his destiny to accept something angelic inside of him.

Castiel wasn't so much worried about Dean's ability to come so close to an angelic state, as much as his own satisfaction that the Grace inside Dean wasn't Michael's, not any other angel's, but _his own._

He had pushed away that thought as arrogant and inappropriate.

He couldn't put his finger on what had taken his train of thought completely off track. Something wasn't right. Yet Sam needed help, and soon Dean would need it too, and all Castiel could do was keep sucking out the venom and bring Dean something to eat when he woke up; he couldn't be so angel as to not need it. He didn't have the time to think about anything else.

And then Dean not only had woken up very soon, and in a very good condition, but he had managed to learn how to fly in a couple of hours, and he had found the Grace inside him like he already knew how, without the help of another angel and without exploding. Castiel hadn't warned him about that because _it had never crossed his mind that it would ever be possible to anybody in the universe to do that._

He couldn't tell with certainty why Dean's body was so eager to reach angelic heights, even though his mind was full of theories. He couldn't explain how Dean didn't die, how he was ready to fight once more, even after almost breaking himself last night, how he was still _him, _all him, nothing different. No crazy breakdowns, no uncontrollable spasms, no light-explosions or wing appearances, not even a little bit of worrying about his own self. It was all Dean, worrying only about his brother, mad at Castiel not because he put him through a test that was really dangerous for him, but because he wasn't pushing him harder. If Sam knew exactly what Dean was thinking, Castiel was sure about it, the brothers would have had a fight that would have put the Titans to shame.

Castiel hadn't told Sam all about his worries last night. Sam was tired enough as it was, and he was struggling with the monster inside him, no matter how well he was trying to hide it. He could have been much worse, Castiel knew, at least his sixteen hours of coming and going weren't for nothing; but still, Sam needed to take his mind off things. Castiel couldn't have him worry about his brother, too. No, he had done the right thing by not telling him how surreal this whole thing was, even for them, and how he really had no idea what was happening to Dean.

Maybe he shouldn't have told him about his feeling of joy when he saw the wings on Dean's back, either. Sam had seemed confused about it. Why, though? It was proof, Dean was strong, stronger than any expectation, and they could really hope for a cure for Sam.

_When people want something really really bad, they lie._

Dean hadn't explained if people could lie to themselves.

Castiel didn't want to let him mind go there. He couldn't lie to himself. He wasn't happy because Dean was proven to be _powerful. _That was something entirely different.

He had felt happy because Dean was really, really beautiful.

Castiel had never cared about human beauty standards. He didn't know anything about them, he didn't care one bit. He had come to understand that Dean was supposed to be good-looking. Castiel wouldn't know. He always liked Dean because of his mind, and his kindness, and his loyalty, and every good attribute he had that he usually couldn't see. They were very, very close, closer than Castiel had been with anyone for too many years, but that was it.

And then it struck him.

A Dean with Grace. A Dean with something on him that wasn't as alien to Castiel. Something that made Castiel look at him without the boundaries of human standards and see him in an entirely different way, realising how attractive he had been all this time – had Castiel really been thinking about Dean as an attractive person? And the strangest feeling of all was that what made Dean so stunning was a part of Castiel's own existence. A part of him that he had thought he'd lost forever when he'd left it inside the broken body of a human he raised from the Pit, and it was now coming back to him in a way that made him thank his luck for losing it in the first place.

When Sam had asked whether this angel Dean was something permanent, Castiel had felt like a bizarre knot had just appeared in his stomach. He hadn't thought about that. Dean would probably share the same opinion as Sam – _it was something that needed to be done, and then it's over, the Grace goes back to its hiding place inside him, if Castiel could take it back, where it belongs, even better_. He had then realised he didn't want Dean to give it up.

Sam hadn't seen how happy Dean had been when he was flying.

Dean hadn't seen how happy and proud Castiel was when he saw him spreading his new wings, flying on his own, learning new tricks…

And Castiel couldn't possibly give a name to the feeling he experienced when Dean's hands were enclosed tightly in his own, when they were flying together. He had been close to Dean several times, he had touched him before, but it wasn't like this. It wasn't with the barrier of different species torn down. He felt like he had been blind all this time, or rather, he'd been keeping his own eyes shut by force, in fear of what he would see.

Right now, he blamed it all on his connection with his lost Grace inside Dean. It probably was just him missing a part of himself for a while and just seeing it come alive again. Nothing important. It couldn't be important.

He turned his gaze towards Dean pacing around the room, his shirt off, his wings folded gracefully on his back, his eyes glowing, greener than ever, Castiel's handprint still visible on his shoulder, and his stomach felt weird again. Maybe it was nothing. He had never heard about a feeling like this before. If it had no name, it didn't exist. Maybe he was just tired. He took his eyes from Dean and absent-mindedly opened the bag with the delicacies he had just found out about. He took out a greasy paper box with a couple of them inside. It had something written in dark pink letters on it.

_Did you know? Chocolate can be really good for you. It helps when you're feeling down, because it triggers the production of endorphins – the hormones that make you feel like you're in love!_

That was strange. Before or after the chocolate, what Castiel was feeling hadn't changed a bit.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Hello again :)_

_I apologize for making you wait so long for the next chapter, but my inspiration seemed to abandon me the past week. _

_I hope you enjoyed the previous extra-long Destiel chapter, and I truly hope you'll enjoy reading this awkward one. Every review is welcome, as always, no matter good or bad._

_I might have made some mistakes cause it's almost 4 am and I'm drowning in my feels. So I'm gonna check it again soon. But I think it turned out well._

_Love ya all._

_**Chapter 7**_

"Cas?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"How are we even going to tell Dean?"

"Straight out, I believe."

"Right. Quick and painful."

"Probably."

"Like taking off a band aid."

"Yes, I like that metaphor."

"So do we call him?"

"Yes, we'd better call him."

"Dean? Can you hear me?"

"You can't pray to him, Sam, he's not that much of an angel."

"Oh. Sorry."

()

Dean felt a drop of sweat reaching his brow, but he didn't lose his focus. A little more concentration and his left wing tip would be completely invisible. He had found that it was much more difficult for him to make his wings invisible while he was using them, and he thought that was a good practice for him; no Grace overdosing, no danger of him falling again, plus he had the chance to fly a little bit more.

He gave himself a little handicap, settled for floating instead of actually flying, and concentrated harder.

"_Come on_, come on come on come on…"

Yes, that was it. Slowly seeing the light and the clouds through the feathers, that was it, just a little bit more…

_DUN_

Dean jumped.

_DUN DUN DUN_

What was that?

_DUN DUN DUN_

Shit.

_DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUN_

Cursing, his wings fully solid and visible again, Dean reached out for the tickle source in his right hip and answered his phone, stopping the Eye of the Tiger half-way.

"Sam? What the hell?"

"_Sorry to bother you, man, but can you please come down?"_

"Dude, I thought you sent me up here to have some privacy while Cas was taking the poison out!" Dean tried to ignore his weird feeling of annoyance for giving Cas and his brother "some privacy".

"_Yeah, yeah, I know, but it's kind of important."_

"I'm practicing here! What's wrong? Can't it wait?"

"_Well, yeah, it sort of can't. I mean, there's no need to worry, but… Look, can you just land already? I'm gonna tell you everything when you're down."_

"Okay, okay, I'm coming. Sure nobody's coming? I don't know how to just pop there, I'll have to fly all the way down."

"_Yeah, you're clear."_

"Okay, see ya in a bit."

Dean put his phone back in his pocket and hurried down to the meadow, to find Cas and Sam sitting on the Impala, exactly where he'd found them. Cas looked a little tired, but that wasn't what's wrong. Something felt really off; Dean narrowed his eyes.

"What happened?"

Sam looked at Cas and then at his brother. "Well", he started, "Cas sucked out some more werewolf juice off me."

"Yes, that was the whole point of today", said Dean. "And?"

"And… something did not go as well as we thought it would go."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that…" Sam took a deep breath. "Look, I'm just gonna say it, okay? We can't take it all out. Some of it is fully absorbed from my body and Cas doesn't think it can go away."

Dean felt his heartbeat rise. "What?"

"No need to worry about that", said Castiel in a hurry, "it is not important. If I try hard, it will leave him with nothing more than a sharp nose or a tendency to shave twice a day in a full moon. It's nothing, really. If we move fast, there's no chance he'll turn full werewolf."

Dean didn't calm down. "But? There's a 'but' somewhere in there, otherwise you wouldn't have called me down in such a hurry".

Sam looked at Castiel again, like he was trying to find his courage. Cas took over and continued talking in Sam's stead. "But the witch has marked him with a part of herself, in some resemblance to the way I marked you when I raised you from Hell. Of course, with her being a witch, her mark is way worse than mine. Not so powerful, but worse".

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that we can partly cure Sam of his lycanthropy, but not enough to stop her from controlling him."

Dean could swear his heart missed a beat. "Can't we just kill the bitch?"

"Yes, we can. But it has to be before the full moon; otherwise we have no idea what she can do with Sam."

"Like what?" shouted Dean.

Castiel sighed tiredly. "I don't know yet, Dean. She might be able to control him completely and make him go get bitten again, and that time, there will be no angelic power to fix it. She might just make him dizzy and nothing more. She might even fail completely. I have no idea. The point is that we cannot wait until then to find out what her abilities are and how she could possibly affect Sam".

Dean tried to calm himself, yet his voice came out shaky. "Are you telling me that I need to learn full control of my new mojo, you need to clean Sam, and we need to find the witch and gank her, _inside a week?_"

"Basically, yes."

"That's just _great_."

"I don't see how this is in any way good, Dean."

"_Sarcasm, _man. It's called sarcasm. After you finish teaching me, I'm gonna have to teach you a few things about it!"

"Dean, calm down! We still have time, okay?"

"No, we don't, Sammy! This is a whole new level of being screwed!"

"We've said that before and it turned out to be wrong."

"Sam is right, Dean."

"As right as my left foot."

"…so, it depends on the point of view?"

"Shut up, you gangly nerd."

Dean leaned on the Impala and tried to take in the new information.

Okay, this wasn't so bad. He knew where the Sheridan bitch lived – or, at least, where she had lived for a while, so they had a head start. He was also making fast progress, as Castiel reminded him pretty often, and Sam seemed to be doing well. No need to panic.

Except finding her might take a long time, and their main goal till now was to make themselves useful again. A half-werewolf Sam and a half-operational angel Dean were no good. How the hell would they make it?

"So, what do we do now?" asked Dean, in hope of an answer that would actually make him feel better, even though he doubted it.

"We move fast", repeated Castiel. "Unfortunately, I can't teach you and take the poison out of Sam at the same time, so you need to practice by yourself. I see you're already in great control of your wings", he observed, looking at Dean's wings, folded so casually against his bare back that one would never guess three days ago they weren't even there.

"Well, yeah, I guess", murmured Dean, his cheeks feeling warm all of a sudden. Why did he like so much Castiel looking at his wings? Wasn't that supposed to be really personal? He shook the feeling off. "I tried to make them invisible while flying, but that didn't go too well", he added, just to take his mind off the uncomfortable thoughts.

"Doesn't matter, it's a good practice", Castiel said approvingly. "I'd suggest you keep doing that, it's a great way to focus on your self-control over your powers".

Dean didn't know if Castiel meant for him to feel bad about yesterday's big failure or not, but he didn't ask. He preferred to not think about that. "Is it enough?" he asked Castiel. "Will that kind of practice be enough for me to go poking at Sam's soul afterwards?"

Cas thought about it. "Yes, I believe it's the best way for now. Once you master that, you'll have enough control for more difficult tasks. Maybe you should start right away, while I take care of Sam. Will you be alright by yourself?"

Dean was almost surprised at the concern in Castiel's voice. "Yeah, yeah", he answered in a hurry, "I'll be okay. I mean, you can't be in two places at the same time, right? So I'm just gonna go and leave you two alone. Give you some privacy."

"That sounds weird, dude".

"I can't believe you find this funny, Sam."

"Okay, I was just trying to break the ice."

"Screw you. And make sure you work your ass off to be okay soon so we can go and beat the shit out of that poor excuse of a witch that got you into this. If you don't get well and you make me drive all by myself from now on, I'm gonna kill you. Again. Bitch."

Sam smiled. "Okay, Dean."

"Right. I'm gonna go now."

"You better. Jerk."

Dean took off, glancing behind him as he left; Castiel's eyes were following him. Was that… sadness in the angel's face?

Dean soared and slowed down only when it had started to feel cold again. Well, if the only thing he could do was to try and focus on his wings, that's what he would do. He only hoped his wings wouldn't dematerialise as well as disappearing from sight.

He fixed his mind on his wings. He had to admit, the more he used them, the more he liked them. He had no idea how many new muscles were in there, but he really enjoyed them. It was like they had always been there, or like his body was expecting them to appear. It was more like puberty; when he had started growing hair on his face, it had felt so alien and weird for a while, and he did have some accidents the first times he shaved, but that was it. Stubble on his cheeks, feathers on extra limbs on his back – what's the difference in the end, right?

Okay, _focus. _That's how he blew it last time. Wings, invisibility, next task. He'd have a long time to enjoy them after this whole witch thing was over.

Right?

He hadn't really talked about it with Cas. What would happen when this was over? Castiel had asked for his help in order to save Sam, but after that there would be no need to keep his angel powers. In fact, he didn't even know if Grace was something that you could put back together, if Cas would want it back.

He frowned as his right wing became transparent, unable to get any satisfaction from that.

He was such an idiot. Of course Cas would want his Grace back. He would want to go full archangel again, if he had the chance. He could obviously absorb the Grace out of Dean with the same ease he was taking the werewolf poison out of Sam. And the sad look on Cas' face as Dean took off… what was that about? Like Cas was upset about something. Dean just came to realise that he probably was acting completely wrong for angel standards – both Cas and Sam had seen his oh-so-personal wings, he couldn't control his power over them, and Cas would have every right to not want to see his own Grace, that so special part of himself, used in such a ridiculous way.

Dammit, way to focus.

Dean remembered the overwhelming wave of raw power he'd felt when he tried to reach the full power of his Grace. Damn, that had felt really good. No, he wouldn't go there again, it was too dangerous. But he couldn't help remembering how strong he had felt, how confident, how _right._

No, that wasn't the way.

But he should use every way he could to make the whole thing go faster. Sam was going more and more werewolf by the minute, and Cas was getting worn out. If Dean only tried it…

_No_. He almost got himself killed last time.

But he knew what he needed to be careful about this time.

And what other chance would he have to feel an angel's Grace inside him after Cas took it away?

Screw it. If he had a week of psychological hell ahead of him, he'd make sure to at least take advantage of the good parts.

He closed his eyes and pictured the white light inside him. He found it too easily.

He glanced at the place where his wings should be and smiled.

Hell, he was good.

He once more let the white light wrap him and, keeping Sam in his mind all the time, to remind him what was on the line here, he gave in.

()

"Cas, that's enough. You're gonna faint."

Castiel didn't argue with that. He removed his hand from Sam's forehead, breathing heavily, ignoring the black veins full of venom showing on his hand. Both his brow and Sam's were soaked in sweat. A couple of drops of blood fell from Castiel's nose, staining his lapel.

Cas went for the hundredth time near the trees and groaned as he put his hand on a rock the size of an oven and let the venom out in the form of black energy. The rock shattered into pieces, like every other rock Castiel had touched before it.

Castiel caught his breath. It must have been past midnight. They had been in the meadow for at least fourteen hours. He realised that Sam was probably starving. If Dean wasn't, it wouldn't surprise him that much, but Sam was too human to keep going like this.

He went back to Sam. "How are you feeling?" he asked him.

Sam stretched his legs – he had admittedly stayed put on the Impala's truck for too long that day. "I'm okay, I guess", he said. "Better than I was this morning. I can still smell everything, though, it's kind of annoying. Although it's been a couple of hours that the living rabbits around have stopped smelling like food, so thanks for that."

"That's pleasant", said Castiel.

"Yeah. I'm still hungry as fuck, though. We should get out of here, I could never take another session of this right away, I swear my bones will crack", Sam cackled bitterly.

"You're right. You'd better call Dean."

Castiel let his body relax after too many hours of straining it. He just watched Sam taking out his cell phone and calling his brother.

"Dean? We're done. Are you coming down?"

"…"

"Dude, where the fuck are you? There's no signal up there. Go lower so I can hear you!"

"_..khchckear me now?"_

"Yeah, more or less. Are you coming? It's time to go."

"_Okay."_

Sam hadn't even hung up, when they heard a flutter of wings and Dean was there, suddenly appearing between them, tripping on his feet and grabbing onto the Impala's roof to keep steady.

"Oh my God, Dean –"

Sam and Cas ran to his aid, but then noticed the smile on his face. He was sweaty, and tired, and wide-eyed, and he looked dizzy, but he was glowing. He let out a loud laugh.

"HA! That was awesome!"

Castiel glared at him. "Dean, what –"

"Dude, that was the most epic thing I've ever done!"

Dean leaned on the Impala and made sure he could stand without help. The smile didn't leave his face. Sam could swear it had been years since he'd seen his brother look this happy.

"Dean, what the hell? How did you do that?" asked Sam, so confused that his stomach had stopped growling.

"It's actually very easy", Dean said, folding his wings and turning them invisible without a blink. "Once you learn how to use these bastards, they are pretty convenient. I'm telling you, man, I swear after this there will be nothing on earth I'm gonna call 'fast'. Ever. I mean", he turned to Castiel, "you've zapped me before, but it's not the same, when you've got full control and you do it yourself…" he half-jumped in the air, as a shiver of excitement ran through his body, "ah, I don't know, man, it's the greatest thing ever!"

Cas and Sam kept staring at Dean. He looked from one to the other. "What?"

"Dean, you just _teleported _here", Sam said.

"Yeah, dude, I was there, I noticed."

"But –"

"Look, Sammy, I was practicing for God knows how many hours up there", said Dean, rolling his eyes. "Playing with my wings was all I had to do, so I made the best of it."

"Still, it's impressive", said Castiel. Dean turned towards him. His face was serious as always, making Dean frown. He'd hoped for some more enthusiasm.

"Come on, Cas. Did I do anything wrong?"

"No, no", answered Cas hurriedly. "On the contrary, I truly believe this is impressive. You're doing amazingly well. I'm just surprised that you can do this much with just a broken shard of Grace inside you, that's all. No wonder that you were destined to be Michael's vessel. Your body seems to react very positively to angelic power".

Dean didn't know how to respond to that. He blinked, feeling a shuffle in his other-dimensional feathers. He turned his head and saw Sam passing his hand through the air behind Dean's back, where he assumed the wings should be.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

"What, you can feel that?"

"Yeah, of course I can! They're still there! Take your hand off me!"

Sam took his hand away. "Sorry, I was just curious about where they went when they're not there. This is pretty weird."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Dean tried not to think the frustrating feeling of fingers running through his feathers. Damn, they were too sensitive. If they managed to send ticklish signals to his entire body in their non-existent form, Dean was really happy nobody had touched them when they were fully out and solid. He cleared his throat. "So, are we going or what?"

"Yeah, but we're driving", said Sam and threw Dean the Impala's keys. "And Dean, since your wings are out of the way, _please_ wear some clothes."

Dean took his T-shirt from the backseat of the car and held the door open for Castiel. The angel looked at him with a way that Dean completely understood was a silent "thank you, I really am tired and need a ride or I'll probably collapse". Cas got inside and curled himself in the backseat, closing his eyes, looking suddenly so human, and young, and fragile. Dean shut the door before he even thought about deciphering his quickening heartbeat.

They left the meadow in silence, Sam and Cas being too tired to speak, and Dean with his mind still full of adrenaline.

()

"How is Cas?"

"Tired, but he'll survive". Dean threw Sam a beer and climbed to the Impala's roof, next to his little brother. He left his legs swinging off the car and opened his bottle, drinking a quarter of his beer at once. Sam couldn't help weighing up his brother and Castiel's completely opposite way of sitting with him and drinking beer, and he let out a chuckle. Dean looked at him.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just had a deja-vu. Yesterday night I had a couple of beers with Cas. It's unbelievable how you two manage to hang out. You're like day and night, man."

Dean took another sip. "Yeah, I guess."

Sam looked at him. "Sure he's okay up there? He completely wore himself out today."

"Don't worry about him. I gave the reception lady some extra money and she had another bed put in the room. Not that Cas is going to sleep, but it's probably good for him to have a bed of his own to rest. Plus, I didn't want to give the wrong impression to the lady". He had another sip, and then realised what he'd said. "I mean, I didn't want her to think we're paying for a room with two beds but there are three of us in there. We might be paying with fake credit cards, but even dishonesty has its limits." Sam laughed and Dean shook his head. "I'm telling you, man, the woman creeps me out."

"Nah, I think she's fun", said Sam and Dean shrugged.

They sat in silence for a while. Then Sam sighed.

"You know, I'm really sorry, Dean."

Dean blinked and looked at his brother. "What? What for?"

"For this. For everything I'm putting you through these days".

"Oh, for crying out loud, Sammy –"

"I'm serious, Dean", Sam said quietly. "I know we've been through some pretty bad stuff, but it's the first time you actually have your whole body altered so much just to save mine from doing exactly the same. It just –"

"Oh, shut up".

"I'm serious!"

"I know, and it's bull. It's not the same. I'm still me; you were going to go nuts if we didn't hurry to put you back to normal. You know there was no other way to save you from a werewolf bite. Hell, you know this better than anyone. So shut your cake hole".

"We thought there was no way of saving you from Hell too, Dean, we've been through some awful stuff, but –".

"Yeah, and do you remember what _you_ did when you were desperate to help _me_, Sammy?"

Sam didn't answer. Dean sighed.

"What I'm saying, Sam, is that in both cases, Cas saved our asses. We should just thank our luck for having him around and then hope and try for the best".

Sam took a look at the sky and turned his head away from the moon. He stared at the lights of the small town, his face looking away from Dean's. "I'm still scared about this whole thing, Dean."

Dean took another sip. "Why? We're gonna make it. We always make it."

"I don't know. This whole thing… the smells, the hunger, the thought of seeing myself change. And then I see you, how calm you are with this whole angel thing. It scares me".

Dean looked at his brother, but Sam was still looking away. He'd never heard him talk like that. He took a deep breath.

"I can't afford to be scared about this, Sammy."

"…Yeah. I know".

"You know it was the only way to get you back to normal".

"I know".

"Then don't worry about it".

"I just want to get this over with, so we can get you back to normal too".

Dean didn't answer.

Of course. How could Sam think of anything else but that? Dean was supposed to get back to normal.

Only he wasn't sure he wanted to.

He liked his wings. He liked the new colours, and the wind, and the speed. He liked having the ability to heal Sam, instead of spending his time worrying about his safety. He liked understanding Castiel's expressions better than before. He liked having the ability to see Castiel's wings without burning his eyes. He liked knowing that a hand between his feathers could offer him such a nice feeling, and he wanted to test it even more. He liked that he finally had taken some control of the White Light and made it obey him and teleport him down; he liked that he didn't need Sam's phone call to know he should come down, because he knew in his brain that Cas had said "call Dean", even though he was happy that he didn't reveal that particular part to the others. He wasn't sure Cas would approve of his experiments with his Grace.

Dean wrapped his jacket around him, even though he wasn't cold. It smelled nice; it smelled like humidity and clouds, and wet earth, and like sweat that wasn't his own. He should give it to Cas more often, it suited him and damn, he didn't know if it was an angel thing, but the guy smelled good.

Dean's eyes widened as he felt a rush of blood in the last place he'd ever expected.

His brain went nuts. What did he think about? That he liked seeing Castiel's wings and understanding him better, right? Liked flying with him?

Try liking being more sensitive to his angel abilities, that till now seemed so alien.

Try liking having a part of him inside you and being more close to him, species-wise.

Try liking having him around all the time.

_Oh, shit, I'm in trouble._

_Try liking Castiel._


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: My chapters were getting longer and longer till now. I don't know if that's good or bad. This one's a little shorter, though. I wanted to upload it fast. It's actually more of a filler between the good stuff. I just needed to keep writing so that I wouldn't let so much time pass between two chapters again. _

_(By the way, oh my God, after writing 8 chapters of Supernatural fic, I realised Mrs Loreley is practically a female Aziraphale. I have no idea how this happened, I swear. Now you should go read Good Omens. All of you. Even those who have already read it.)_

_Also, I found out there are tons of names you can shorten and make a Cass out of them. I was pretty surprised at their number, being a Cass myself. (and here you find the reason I spell Castiel's nickname with one S, it creeps me out spelling it with two. It's like writing fics about myself). Anyway every name info in this fic is based on actual names. As is the info on town and city names. I've never even been to the US so I had to make a research about that stuff. I hope I managed to keep it realistic. If not, and if there are people from those areas reading this fic, I apologise. If you get mad at me for failing, I allow you to send me a mini-fic with what you think Dean, Sam and Cas would do if they spent a week in Athens, Greece. For real. =p_

_Anyway. I hope you're still enjoying this. See ya in the next chapter._

_**Chapter 8**_

The next four days passed too quickly, yet Dean had the impression that it had been a century since Sam had gotten himself bitten.

It was Friday when their routine started. They got up early, got coffee and food for the day, and then left for the meadow. Mrs Loreley didn't ask about their destination, but she promised to keep them some food for when they returned. Dean was glad she hadn't started poking around again, he was already too confused. He insisted they'd take the car to go back to the meadow; he needed at least one thing to remain the same in his life.

When they reached the meadow, Cas and Sam stayed in the Impala to get rid of the poison, while Dean flew off and kept practicing his control over his powers. Cas and Sam had already realised Cas needed some breaks, so while the angel was resting, Sam took out his laptop and looked up some stuff about the witch, according to the information they already had from Dean.

Friday ended with Castiel actually sleeping in the backseat. Sam had found out the witch's name and coven: Amanda Sheridan, sister of the quite recently deceased Johanna Sheridan. There had been rumours about their coven since the 1600's. Sam said their ancestors belonged to a Native American tribe who communicated with the spirit world, and he also mentioned some more nerdy stuff, but Dean couldn't remember it all; he was still high on Grace. He was actually happy Cas had gone to sleep and he didn't have to face him. He didn't know what he dreaded more, Cas finding out about him completely ignoring the angel's warnings about not overusing his Grace, or having to deal with his feelings for the angel.

Dean gave a vague answer to Sam's "so what have you been up to all day?" and made sure he didn't let anything give away what he had really been up to. He was sure that his teleporting to Canada would make Sam freak out.

Saturday passed without any major changes. Dean left early, before Sam or Cas woke up –damn, _why _was Cas sleeping so much? – and visited the local police department, looking for info on Amanda Sheridan. He left the Sheriff his number, so he could inform him when the info was in, and zapped to the meadow. He'd left the keys to the Impala on Sam's bedside table so that he'd take the car; he didn't want Cas to strain himself by spending any unnecessary energy in teleporting. He wasn't over-reacting to Cas' exhaustion, was he? Who had ever heard of an angel getting a full 8-hour sleeping session? Cas had spent so much time caring for the Winchesters, it was time someone cared back.

Dean flew off angrily at that point. Yeah, he cared about Cas; try having someone die for you over and over again, raising you from the dead and all. These things do something to a guy. He trusted him and had a great time with him, _but that was it_. It was just the Grace talking, he had a part of Cas inside him and now it was active, it was just longing to go back to its original place. He couldn't be possibly attracted to Cas, he was just feeling closer to him because of all the angel crap. Right? The guy was like… hell, he was a _guy_. Not even that; he was a celestial entity whose true form could burn the eyes out of Dean. All Dean knew was the face and trench coat of Jimmy Novak. He was only now realising how much it annoyed and frustrated him that he'd never seen Castiel's face, that he'd never heard his voice. And no, that glass-shattering noise didn't count, neither did the gruff in Jimmy's vocal cords. And yet he trusted him with his life, and he'd kill and die for him, which was something that he only reserved for very few people in his life.

That was crazy.

Dean called the White Light again, and this time, like yesterday, it came casually and filled him up. He was starting to get worried that he was getting addicted to it.

He didn't care.

He'd have to quit cold turkey in less than a week, anyway, so he was determined to enjoy it as much as possible. Hell, the better he was at this, the better he could fix Sam.

The same night, he found Castiel asleep again, and Sam in more or less the same psychological and physical state as last night; Cas was indeed removing the werewolf effects off him, but the full moon was getting closer, making things harder. When Sam asked his brother if he was okay, and what progress he was making, Dean only mentioned teleportation and left it at that, claiming he was too tired. He left out the part of teleporting to Iceland.

And exorcising two demons.

With his bare palm.

Sunday came. Dean woke up by the sound of his cell phone ringing. The Sheriff had found all the info about Amanda Sheridan and Dean, sorry, Agent Robert Plant could come and get it whenever he wanted. He pretended not to hear Castiel calling him and asking him where he was going so early in the morning, he took a piece of pie and a cup of coffee from Sally the waitress and told Mrs Loreley to inform his roommates that he'd come to pick them up soon.

He reached the Sheriff's office as fast as he could and took Amanda Sheridan's file. He went back to the motel and left his keys to Mrs Loreley, saying he had to go and leaving instructions for her to give the keys to Sam. He left in a hurry, taking Amanda's file with him. He needed to find the bitch, and he needed to do it soon.

()

"Excuse me, but what do you mean he's already left?"

"I mean, he went out not half an hour ago. He left you the keys to the car, dear. He said he didn't know when he was coming back".

"_What?"_

Mrs Loreley seemed nervous. "Did I do something wrong, dear? Should I have told him something? Should I have stopped him?"

Sam passed his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily. "No, it's okay, Mrs Loreley", he murmured. "I just didn't expect him to leave like that. Did he say anything else?"

"Um, no, he didn't, dear, I'm sorry". The reception lady looked really sad about this.

Sam turned to Castiel. "Didn't he tell you anything?"

"Sam, I was _asleep. _And I haven't talked properly to Dean for a couple of days now, with things progressing the way they do. I do feel something is bothering him, though."

Mrs Loreley looked at Castiel with eyes full of sympathy. "Did you boys have a fight?" she asked with a tone that would be more proper if she had been addressing a five-year-old.

"No", answered Castiel, and he turned to Sam. "Whatever Dean is up to, we need to go, Sam. There's no time. The full moon's in four days and the witch is nowhere to be found yet. And I would really appreciate if you removed your foot from stepping on mine, it is somewhat irritating".

Sam tried to remain calm, and fought off the desire to rip Castiel's throat out; it wasn't a good sign for his own progress. He looked at the poker face of Mrs Loreley and laughed awkwardly. She smiled back.

"I should have known you boys were staying here so long for a reason", she said and winked knowingly at them. Sam felt his shoulders and spine go cold.

"What…?"

"Don't worry, I will save you three places to the party", she said and her smile widened. "There's a costume competition too, if you'd like to participate. Roleplaying counts, so I believe you three should definitely take part in it."

Sam kept staring at her, his brain feeling like a tangled web at the moment. "Excuse me, what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, my dear, this town is famous for its Halloween parties! You're in _Danvers_, remember?"

Sam blinked and felt his body temperature stabilise and his heartbeat slow down. Of course. How could he forget? It was a week till Halloween and people tended to go crazy about it. Not having celebrated Halloween frequently in his life, he never had any reason to remember it. He guessed that people near Salem really liked the stuff. His smile was very, very honest this time.

"Yeah, you got us", he said. "We're really into that Halloween stuff. Pumpkins, candy, monsters, what's not to like?"

"Exactly", Mrs Loreley giggled and her face glowed. "What are you dressing up as, if I may ask? Many like to keep that part as a surprise, you know."

"Well", said Sam, "the plan was for me to go as a werewolf, but in the end, I don't see it happening".

"Oh, that's a pity", said Mrs Loreley. "It's not uncommon, but I think you could pull it off".

"Yeah, that's what we thought".

"Do you have an alternative?"

"Angels and demons, I believe".

"Oh, I'd have thought witch hunters", remarked Mrs Loreley. "You could pull that off, too. Your friend here is already in character, that's remarkable", she said and winked at Castiel.

Cas tilted his head. "I'm… what?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear, I'm so rude, you've been around so many days and I haven't even asked for your name yet", she said.

"His name's Cas", Sam interrupted, before Castiel had the time to say anything.

"Oh, that's a pretty name", Mrs Loreley said and smiled kindly. She turned to Cas. "Is it Jasper? Because my niece is about to give birth to her son and she was looking up names, and she liked Jasper, but she wanted to find nicknames for it. Or is it Casey?"

"It's Castiel", the angel said.

"Oh, that's lovely! Very poetic."

"Yes, thank you, Mrs Loreley", Sam interrupted again. "We have to go now, though. Can you tell that girl who usually serves here –"

"Sally?"

"Yes, Sally – can you tell her to bring us some food? The same as yesterday. Thank you, we'll be right here", and he pushed Castiel towards the motel's main entrance, where it would be harder for someone to eavesdrop on them, before the overly kind reception lady managed to raise another smalltalk subject for them. He ignored her happy voice reassuring him they'd have their food in no time.

"God, I thought she'd never shut up". Sam pressed his fingers against his nose bridge. When he looked up, he faced Castiel's piercing stare. "Dude, you're freaking me out. Stop looking at me like that."

"I will when you stop acting like an animal", said Castiel grimly and Sam felt like the angel had splashed him with a bucket of cold water. He stared at his feet.

"I'm scared, man", he muttered. "Today it's really bad. I can smell _everything. _And I keep feeling so mad at everything, it drives me crazy. I thought the poison was almost gone by now".

"Do I need remind you that there is a part of it that won't leave you?"

"So this is how it's gonna be like for me from now on? Going nuts every month?"

"You know, Sam Winchester, I sometimes wonder whether you pay any attention to me when I'm speaking. I will repeat it for you, though: _When Dean takes the werewolf effect off your soul, you will have no more savage urges, but you will always have a little werewolf part inside you_. Dean was raised from Hell and he kept inside him a part of angelic Grace, but he was perfectly human until we poked his Grace with a stick. With you, nobody will ever be able to poke your werewolf parts. Was that clear enough? Did I talk human enough for you to understand?"

Sam swallowed. "Yeah, okay. You're right. I'm just feeling so weird, man."

"It is in every way normal".

"And why are you so pissed, anyway?"

Castiel didn't answer at once. "I'm only tired, Sam. And don't you dare feel guilty about that, because I will recover soon. Now all that matters is healing you".

"…and finding where Dean is."

Castiel didn't answer; Sam didn't pressure him.

The angel didn't want to make Sam feel any worse, so he didn't mention the strange vibes he'd been getting from Dean the past couple of days. He was too exhausted to decipher what it was, but it felt alien and familiar at the same time. Plus, he couldn't tell why Dean was so reluctant to speak to him, or even acknowledge his existence during these past 48 hours.

"Your meals to go are ready!" they heard a cheery voice.

Sally the waitress handed them two large paper bags, smiling. "I put everything on your tab", she explained, "but the doughnuts are on the house. We saw you really liked them and, between us, it's been a while since someone stayed here for this long, so we want to take care of you guys", and she turned her back on them with a wink. "Have fun!"

Sam waved awkwardly goodbye at the girl's back. He turned to Castiel.

"I think we should go."

"Yes, I believe so".

"Okay. Let's go take the car."

Castiel hesitated, but followed Sam with a look of deep thought.

"What is it?" Sam asked as they walked towards the Impala.

"I do not wish to be intrusive, but may I ask what you last talked about with your brother?" asked Castiel, not meeting Sam's eyes.

Sam frowned, trying to remember what had exactly happened two nights ago. "I don't know. We mostly talked about fixing each other again, you know? Like, we both feel like we should help each other snap out of our weird situations. That was more or less it. Do you think I said something that annoyed him?"

Castiel shook his head and didn't answer. Of course Dean would want to be fixed. What normal person, let alone a hunter of supernatural beings, would like to walk around with an almost fallen angel's broken pieces inside him, getting new limbs and becoming more and more similar to the creatures he had been hunting till now?

He didn't let himself think about that. There were other things that needed to be done right now, and clearing his feelings towards Dean wasn't a priority.

They'd have time for that afterwards.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Hello again!_

_Yes, this was fast. I promised someone to make it quick and to get to the good stuff. Also, I wanted to make it up to you for the previous filler-chapter (well, I don't know if you actually thought it as a filler, but for me it definitely felt like one)._

_Anyway this one got out of me. I had planned it to go a completely different way but it seems the characters themselves don't let me. I'm not saying anything here so I don't spoiler you. _

_And yeah, so much for the no-sex thing I was thinking about. I don't think I'll manage to hold it in for long. If and/or when it comes, I'll make sure to warn you. I assure you, I have no idea what I'm going to do with this matter._

_Good and bad reviews are always welcome, rude reviews are not. Enjoy! :D_

_**Chapter 9**_

Dean avoided the hot coffee coming toward his face with a quick jump to his right.

"Whoa, Sammy! Chill!"

"Chill? I'm going to kill you, you big fat sack of crap!"

"That's not very nice".

"I'm gonna show you nice, you bastard! Do you think you can just pop here?"

"Well, I didn't exactly _pop_, per se, I just –"

Dean had to catch his brother's fist. "Hey, chill out!"

"Oh, you want me to just _chill out? _Like nothing happened?"

"Look, Sammy –"

"Hey, boys!"

The brothers both turned towards the shrill voice coming from somewhere about fifteen inches from the top of their heads. Mrs Loreley was standing next to them, a kitchen towel in her hand, and a very angry expression in her face. "If you want to argue, please do it quietly or go outside. There are many customers here besides you two! And you, my dear, need to clean up your mess", she said, pointing a finger at Sam. "No spilling coffee around here, get that? Now be quiet!"

She threw her towel on their table, turned on her heels and she strode to her reception desk, leaving both Winchesters speechless. It was frustrating how scary a little chubby lady could be. They looked at each other. Dean angrily let go of Sam's arm.

"Y'know, I could use a 'hello' before you try to boil me", Dean commented quietly, making Sam snort.

"Dude, you're nuts", Sam said, kneeling, taking the towel and putting it over the spilled coffee, ignoring the other customers' looks. "Do you have any idea what day it is? It's freaking _Tuesday_!"

"Yeah, I know you have a little something for Tuesdays, but I don't control the calendar", said Dean with a tone that caused him to receive a punch in the thigh.

"You know what I mean!" Sam raged. "You've been gone since Sunday morning! I've been trying to call your cell since like forever, and all I get is a fucking auto-message saying Cas should just keep detoxing me and we should just _not be worried about you. _There's nothing you can say to another person to make him worry about you than telling him to not worry about you! Where the hell were you?"

Dean sighed. He had it coming, he knew that. He had just hoped Sam would be cooler about it. Well, he didn't have much hope about it, but he had been an optimist for a long time, he wasn't going to change now.

"Well, I figured I could look up the bitch and practice at the same time", he said, shrugging casually.

Sam waited a couple of seconds, still taking care of the spilled coffee, before turning his look –his, well, quite terrifying look – to his brother.

"So, where's Cas?" said Dean, trying too much to sound casual. Maybe he had gone too far – he could practically hear the blood rushing in Sam's brain. And not because of some weird angel sense; that was Sam Winchester 101. When you grow up with someone, you know when they're about to explode.

"Dean", Sam said in a trembling, low voice, "the full moon's in two days and I'm still not over this shit. I ate an almost raw steak last night, I can hear every single person's heartbeat inside this room, and _I fucking need a better explanation than the bullshit you're giving me."_

Dean nodded solemnly, trying to not freak out about his brother's condition. "Okay", he said hoarsely. "I'm gonna say this fast, 'cause it's a lot to take in. I got Amanda Sheridan's file from the police department and found out what her most recent address was. She had been living in Salem for a while, so I went to look for her. A guy had bought her house and he told me she'd moved to Washington with her boyfriend, so I went over there to take a look. Don't look at me like that; I just practiced zapping to places. The guy had her address so that he could send her the mail she might miss; he said she had left in a hurry. Anyway I didn't find her there, but I talked to a neighbour and he told me she'd moved back to Massachusetts, but he didn't know exactly where. So I decided to come back here to tell you guys, but first I went inside her old place, just to check if there was any useful stuff lying around. A diary, maybe, or a note to somebody from her coven, I don't know. I didn't find a diary, but guess what I found; she had freakin' werewolf guard dogs inside. The bitch has total control over the poor bastards, I swear, god knows for how long they've been her bitches for her to control them even in a day other than the full moon; they attacked me with everything they got. Kitchen knives, chair legs, and it was about a dozen of them, so it took me a while to take care of them. Anyway I had to get some sleep before I came back, there was no energy left in me to come back, so as soon as I was okay again, I zapped here. And as you might have noticed, I'm not into Cas' strange popping habits, and I actually walked through the door. You're welcome. That's about it".

Dean's heartbeat was starting to go crazy as he waited for Sam to answer, but his little brother didn't give him the pleasure. Instead, he made sure the floor was clean without looking at Dean, he carefully folded the coffee-soaked towel and wrapped it in some napkins, then walked quietly to the closest waitress, a very petite redhead with more freckles than actual skin, and apologised for the mess while giving her the towel. He walked away from Dean and went outside, leaving his big brother speechless.

"Hey –"

Dean rushed after Sam and grabbed his brother's shirt as soon as they'd passed the motel's entrance. His response was a straight-out punch in the face.

"OW!"

"Holy freakin –"

Both the brothers groaned, one holding his jaw, the other bringing his right hand close to his body, both hopping around in pain, each too proud for his manhood to scream his pain out.

"Dude, what the hell is your face made of?"

"Are you asking me, you freak? Do you have iron knuckles or something?"

"What the hell is this?"

"Dunno, man, you were the one who punched me!"

"Hell yeah, I did!"

"I said I was sorry!"

"No, you didn't! And still, a fucking phone call, dude! What would that cost you? Do you have any idea how shitty the last couple of days have been for me?"

"I'd left you in good hands!"

"Yeah, Cas. Well, guess what; Cas isn't my freaking big brother, and no matter how I appreciate him putting his ass on the line for us again, it drives me freaking crazy seeing my own brother act like he's a complete stranger!"

Dean felt the blood rushing in his face. He wanted nothing more than to go World Wrestling Championship on Sam's stupid face right now, but he tried to take some deep breaths instead. Damn, the kid was going to go wolf in two days; he couldn't get too angry at him when he was clearly losing control. Besides, there were some people around staring now – apparently, having two huge dudes hitting each other while yelling nonsense was something worth watching.

"Look, Sammy, I'm not saying what I did was right", Dean started, "but you never would have let me go out there by myself, and there was nothing I could do for you here. Okay? I'm sorry for being an ass, but –"

"You know what, screw that, Dean", bellowed Sam. "Ever since you went angel –"

"Dude, shut your hole!" said Dean between clenched teeth, looking nervously around. Great, was that a camera phone in that giggling girl's hand?

"…ever since you went angel you're just acting like one of _them, _like a freaking creep, like you don't need to explain anything! I'm sick of this! And I'm sick of going through all this shit because of your personal vendetta with a fucking witch whose damned sister I didn't even know existed!"

Dean's jaw opened, words having abandoned his brain. Yes, he knew it was the full moon speaking, but that was too much. He closed his mouth, put his hands on his pockets and gave Sam his usual sarcastic smirk.

"Okay, Sammy, I get it", he said, wondering himself where he was finding the courage to not get mad. "You're right. Can we get back to the room now? People are staring."

"I don't care, Dean. Let them stare!"

"You don't mean that, we're causing trouble", Dean said patiently. "We should go now, right?" and he slowly reached to catch Sam's arm.

The answer was another punch in the eye.

"Get away from me!" Sam growled.

"Hey!" they heard a high-pitched voice. Dean's right eye saw the freckled redhead waitress standing in front of the small crowd. Her lower lip trembled, but her eyes were bravely fixed on Sam. "This isn't a place to fight! Go to a freaking wrestling ring or something, for all I care, but there are kids here! Stop it or we'll have to kick you out of the motel!"

"Girl, no –" Dean tried to say, but his brother's kick in the stomach made him stop mid-way and desperately search for air to breathe.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" Dean heard the girl shout, and he glimpsed at the face of Sam looking at her; he suddenly knew he was going to attack her.

"No!" shouted Dean and got up. Werewolf crisis or not, that was going too far.

"What the _hell?"_

The strange choice of words didn't stop Dean from freezing in hearing Castiel's voice. Sam stopped his movement too, panting, his eyes glowing with a primitive kind of anger that Dean had never seen before. The crowd made way for the strange man in the trench coat, who came close to the brothers.

Castiel looked from one to the other. "_What the hell do you think you're doing?"_ he asked in a low voice that Dean thought could crash someone's soul.

"Get out of the way, Cas", Sam said, still panting.

"Dude, we need to get out of here", Dean implored Castiel. "The kid's going nuts".

"I am aware. Step aside, young hunter. This is out of your abilities", Castiel said solemnly –damn, too loudly! – and he turned to face Sam.

"Cas, what –" Why the fuck was Castiel talking like that?

"Begone, evil spirit! Thou shalt possess this human no longer! I exorcise thee!" Castiel declaimed and, with a sudden move, touched Sam's forehead with his point and middle finger, causing Sam to collapse in his arms.

In front of everyone.

The crowed stared, bewildered. Dean had never wished more for an active volcano underneath his feet. He could swear he could hear ants speaking in the silence.

Then Castiel turned to the crowd and –what the hell? – _bowed_.

"Thank you", he said to the people around. "More of our witch-hunting, angels-and-demons roleplaying show on Halloween night. Take care".

Dean was sure he hadn't blinked for way more than was healthy for him, and he could say the same for everyone around.

Then, all of a sudden, the crowd started applauding.

Freaking _applauding._

Dean looked around as many people cheered. He caught words like "awesome" and "deffo win the RP competition", as well as "freaking poseurs". He watched awkwardly as people came and patted Cas on the back, saying stuff like "you really got me there, dude", and as they came to Dean and calling him a "roleplaying genius".

When the people scattered, he took a long look at Castiel, who looked a little embarrassed.

"Dude."

"Yes, Dean". Castiel kneeled beside Sam and checked on him.

"What was _that_?"

"Improvising".

"No, I get it, I mean –" Dean couldn't really find the right words. He laughed. "How did you even know –"

"I listened to people talking about these things. It appears they have a tradition here that includes performances and imitations of the Supernatural. I simply pay attention".

Dean couldn't do anything but nod. Castiel was always so alien, so unfamiliar to the everyday world, that it was easy to forget how intelligent he actually was. He might not be completely understanding of the human ways, or the reasons behind them, but he had just managed to lie perfectly in order to save all of their dignities and secrets. He had turned a completely unrealistic, embarrassing, dangerous situation into something that random people actually congratulated him about.

Dean had to pinch himself through his jeans' pockets so that he stopped staring at the back of Castiel's head, hoping to see the angel's blue eyes again. He tried not to think how much he'd missed them in the two days he was away. He sat beside Cas and took his brother's head in his arms. Sam's face felt a little feverish, but he looked pretty calm.

"We'd better go, Cas, there's no need for Sam to be still 'roleplaying'. People are going to stare".

"Yes, you're probably right".

And Dean found himself next to Cas and Sam in their motel room. No zapping nausea. Well, at least he was used to it by now.

He cleared his throat. It was the first time he was feeling this awkward around Cas ever since he met him. And he had a feeling Cas was also a little bit weird towards him, but that might just be his imagination.

"So, what happened while I was gone?" Dean asked. "Sam was way too pissed to tell me".

"Yes, so I noticed", said Cas and made Sam comfortable in his bed. "It's the full moon, Dean; it's affecting him too much. Yesterday evening I realised there's nothing more I can do for him. I pretended to take out more venom for his sake, to make him feel better, but I've removed all I could. He still has some left inside him, and if his soul's not healed, he'll turn. And I'm exhausted, Dean. I don't think I can teach you anything now. Not in my current state. Everything tires me. I'm sorry".

He sat on his bed and hid his face in his hands. The gesture was so human that Dean was actually shocked. Before he even realised what he was doing, he sat next to Castiel and put his arm around the angel's shoulders.

"Hey", he said softly, "don't worry about it. I practiced by myself, okay? Everything's going to be fine, you were right all along. Everything's going to be okay. You should just leave the rest to me".

"You don't understand, Dean", the angel muttered. "I can't help you anymore. My Grace has almost faded. I'd gladly do that again to help you and Sam, but I don't know how long it will take to restore itself. Until then, I can show you nothing more. I'm…" he swallowed, "I'm practically human now, when it comes to this."

Dean nodded awkwardly. "That's why you've been sleeping."

"Yes."

Dean kept the angel close to his body in a comforting way he had no idea he could pull off, and with his entire brain numb so he wouldn't think about what he was doing. "But your Grace is eventually going to go back to normal, right?"

Castiel sighed and talked as if he was making an effort with every word; he didn't pull himself away. "Yes, eventually it will be alright again. Except, of course, for the part inside you. For as long as you keep it, I mean", he added hurriedly and looked away.

"Oh". Dean had forgotten about that. "Yeah, of course. It's not like I'm going to keep it forever, right?"

"…right."

The awkward silence between them could be cut with a knife. Dean coughed. "So, what were you going to teach me?"

Castiel's look pierced him. "I told you, I can't do it."

"I'm not asking you to show me, I'm asking you to give me instructions", explained Dean. "About how to clean Sam's soul from the wolf parts. How do you do it?"

Castiel frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Trust me, I've practiced a lot these days. What do I do?"

Cas hesitated, but then nodded. "Alright. I will show you what to do".

Dean felt his heartbeat quicken. At last. "Great. That's great, Cas."

"Um… Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Showing you how to heal your brother will probably prove insufficient if you keep your arm around my shoulders".

Dean blushed so hard that he could make a tomato jealous. He muttered an apology and pulled his arm back. Castiel went next to Sam, avoiding Dean's eyes, and he pulled off Sam's shirt. He placed his hand on a spot between Sam's ribcage and stomach.

"You will aim here", he said. "You will try to put your hand inside him and catch his soul".

Dean blinked. "What?"

"It might be difficult, because you don't have an angelic true form, but you have an equivalent of a vessel to work with", said Cas. "If I've managed to do this while inside a vessel, so can you in your physical body. In fact", he stopped like he'd just thought of something, "maybe it will work better for you, since your Grace and body are practically one. If you try to bring your hand to match the condition of your wings, you can penetrate the barrier of Sam's physical body and grab his soul."

Dean tried to swallow the knot in his throat. "And say I catch it. Then what?"

"Then we can only lay our hopes to your emotional bond with Sam", said Castiel and met Dean's eyes for the first time in a while. "You know him so well that you'll understand which parts of his soul are pure Sam and which ones are infected".

"And then?"

"And then… we'll see. It depends."

"On what?"

"On what you'll find in there."

"Okay. Let's do this."

Dean approached Sam's bed. He looked at Cas, his face a pure question mark, and put his hand where Castiel's had been a few seconds ago. Castiel, taking his eyes off him, took his hand softly and put it in the right place over Sam's bare chest. Dean ignored the butterflies in his stomach. He was just nervous, he told himself.

It would be nice if he also believed himself once in a while.

He shook his head and concentrated.

That was it.

That was when he saved Sam.

He didn't have time to lose. He removed his hand from Sam's chest, took his T-shirt off with a fluid, continuous move and let his wings unfurl behind him, just to have one thing less to think about. With the same move, he brought his fist to the place Cas had showed him and shoved it into Sam's chest.

_A/N: Can you imagine that at first I was thinking about Cas and Dean arguing at this scene? How on Earth did it come out so fluffy?_

_Oh well, I'm not complaining._

_Cya next chapter._


	10. Chapter 10

_Three cheers for Cass, for bringing this fic to the 10th chapter! Yay me! I honestly thought that it would have finished by now. Oh well, it seems it has a life of its own, and since you're still enjoying it, it's good enough for me. Or, at least, I guess you're enjoying it. If you're reading this, you probably are. I love you._

_At this point, I want to thank the awesomeness that is Tom Hiddleston, for giving the public a great quote that I think suited Dean too much not to use it. _

_The delta symbol mentioned is this: __δ__, and the entire symbol and its meaning is taken from the RPG Werewolf: the Apocalypse. I needed a cool symbol for a tattoo and my character's tribe symbol (the one of the Fianna tribe) suited my needs and could be described easily._

_I have to warn you that this is a rather solemn chapter. I guess I'm trying to keep Supernatural's balance between comic reliefs and kicks to the balls of the audience's feels._

_Chapter bonus: shameless wing kink. More to come, I promise. It seems that, like everyone before me, I have fallen into the pit of sexy wing times and I don't want to get out. My childhood fantasy being me growing wings doesn't help a bit. Wait, why am I telling strangers this? _

_Oh, well, we're just getting to know each other. Enjoy!_

_**Chapter 10**_

Yes, it was official: Dean had never felt anything weirder in his life, and he probably never would.

He was keeping his eyes closed; it was like he had a second pair of eyes on his right hand. His hand could still get every single sensation from around it, only it wasn't really there; it had turned into some sort of light-based form, yet it was still _his hand – _Dean couldn't explain it for the life of him.

His entire brain was fixed on his hand. He was half-expecting to catch Sam's spleen or something, yet his hand didn't grab on anything solid; instead, he caught a grip of something far weirder.

"Oh, God –"

Yes, that was Sam's soul.

Holy freaking Mother of Shit, he was holding Sam's soul.

He didn't know what made that thing a soul, he didn't even know what_ that thing _looked like; he only knew that it was full of Sam.

Oh, wait –

Nope. Not entirely full of Sam. There was this one part…

"Cas, I think I got it."

Dean felt – he _freaking felt –_ Castiel's eyes widen. "What does it feel like?" he heard the angel's voice. "Like an infection, like an extra part, what?"

"Dunno, it's like…" Dean made a grimace, trying to put the most unearthly experience of his lifetime into words. "It's like, there's a big light bulb that is all Sam, but there's dirt all over it, and I think I need to clean it so it can shine properly". God, that had sounded completely ridiculous. He didn't know if he cared right now.

"Can you remove the parasitic parts?"

Yes, thank you, _parasitic parts_. That sounded much smarter. "Yeah, I think so… But they're all over the place". _Sounding calm, you're doing well, Dean Winchester. Never let Cas know how freaked out you actually are._

"Dean, if you're not okay, you should stop. Please".

_Damn Cas' sixth sense_. "No, it's alright, I'll just –" he stopped. What would he do?

He let his instinct take over, and he imagined his hand turning into a very powerful magnet. He tried to imagine the infection on Sam's soul as tiny metal shards. Yes, make it simple, no need to overcomplicate things.

His hand started to burn as the dark spots came closer to him. He felt his brow sweating, his shut eyes hurting from the salt. He clenched his teeth.

The dark spots came even closer. Some of them attached themselves to his hand.

Dean screamed. He screamed all the air out of his lungs, feeling like he'd put his hand inside a pot of burning needles. The pain was too much. But he kept it there, because there were too many dark spots left.

He felt the sweat in his face mix with his tears.

"Cas, I can't take it anymore!"

"Dean, stop it, please! Take your hand out!"

Dean shook his head. He remembered the White Light. He wrapped himself with it, out of instinct.

"Dean!"

_Just a little more, you can do it; it's Sammy we're talking about here._

Yeah, he was sure of it, he was going to lose a hand today. He didn't care.

"Dean, stop it!"

_No._

He suddenly opened his eyes, and this time the white light coming out of them didn't blind him. He could see everything. A little more and all the dark spots would stick on him and leave his brother alone once and for all.

_Dean. You're going to tear down the building._

The voice inside his head made Dean stop for a fragment of a second. That was enough for Castiel to grab the hunter's right hand and pull it out of Sam, making Dean and himself alike scream and crash on the floor. The White Light faded as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving the room darker than it should be so early in the morning.

Dean shook his head, confused. What was he doing? He looked around, still shaking, his face and body still soaked in sweat, his wings still out. The silence in the room was deafening. Sam was lying in his bed, no sign of damage or anything unusual on him. Then Dean noticed Castiel.

"Oh my God, Cas –"

He crawled as fast as he could close to Castiel. The angel was lying down, his nose bleeding, his eyes half-closed; he wasn't breathing.

"Cas! Wake up!"

Dean took Cas' head in his hands –his completely normal, absolutely not shiny, very human hands – and shook him gently.

"Cas! Oh God, please –"

Castiel coughed; Dean's breath came back. "Oh, thank God", he said and wiped the blood off Cas' face with his sleeve. Castiel opened his eyes, looking around as if he didn't understand what was going on. He spit a mouthful of blood and looked at Dean in a way the hunter had never seen before.

"Cas?"

The angel pulled away from Dean, trying to make his limbs support his own weight. He took some breaths. Dean felt like he had been turned into a statue; he was unable to move or speak properly. He could swear he had just lost a couple of years from his lifespan. He knew Sam was quite okay, but he had never expected to hurt Cas because of it.

"Cas, please talk to me", he begged, his voice barely audible.

Castiel looked at him, still sitting on the floor.

"Dean, what did you just do?"

Dean would have preferred him to yell. Anything but that indecipherable tone. Dean swallowed. "I don't know", he murmured. "I just… followed my instincts. I don't know. I don't know. I'm sorry".

"No, don't apologise, just…" Castiel stopped and got a grip on the bed, in order to get up. "Dean, did you realise what you just did?"

"Yes. No. God, I'm so sorry", Dean said and got up himself, feeling terribly weak in the knees. "Did I hurt you? Did I do this to you?"

Castiel shook his head, but Dean could sense his uncertainty. "Dean, you do realise that you were not supposed to be able to do that, right?" Cas asked, in a very low voice.

Dean was vaguely aware that there were people running in the motel corridors, some panicking and yelling. What had he done? Just how out of control was he?

"Cas, I swear, I have no idea what just happened to me", he admitted, not daring to look at the angel.

"How on Earth –" Cas started, but he didn't go on. Dean realised the angel's tone wasn't accusing; he was as shocked as himself, but he wasn't blaming him. He was just too surprised to put it into words.

"Cas, what the hell is happening to me?" he murmured and let himself sit heavily on his bed.

Dean sensed the angel's eyes on him. He turned his look on him, wanting nothing more than to have Cas never to leave him. He was scared, he was too scared, and Cas was the only one who could ever make him feel better.

Castiel approached him slowly and sat beside him. "Dean, I think your Grace is restoring itself".

Dean's throat was completely dry. "What…?"

"You see", started Castiel, trying to find the proper words, "the Grace is something that is able of self-healing. When a part gets lost –"

Castiel looked around nervously.

"What? What happens?"

Castiel looked away. "Dean, I have to go".

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I need to go. I'm being summoned to Heaven".

"What?" Dean was sure his legs had disappeared at that moment. "Is it my fault?"

"I don't know".

"But I'm not done healing Sam!" Dean cried out. "I can't do this without you!"

"He's safe for now. I need to go. Don't touch Sam. And don't leave the motel".

And Castiel disappeared, a little slower than usual, leaving Dean alone in a motel room, with his chest heavy and his mind in a million pieces.

…

Dean kept pacing along the room. It had been hours since Cas had left. Sam was still sleeping, and it was only fear that kept Dean from going to his brother and finishing what he had started. There were still some black spots in Sam's soul – the mental image of them drove Dean crazy.

Then it was everything else. It was already ten in the evening, and the moon was out. They were running out of time. He had to go looking for the witch, but his guilt in seeing Castiel hurt so badly stopped him from disobeying the angel again.

Seriously now, what the fuck had he done? He couldn't put Castiel's face out of his mind. The blood, the sweat, it was like he was completely fallen. And it was all Dean's fault. What the hell had gotten into him? Why couldn't he just stick to what seemed simpler? Why did he have to go and summon the White Light again? He knew he was freaking addicted to it and yet, he couldn't stop himself from using it. Somehow, that made him feel even worse for judging Sam so hard when he was using the demon blood. He tried to convince himself that angelic Grace and demon juice were not the same, but in the end, did it really matter? Sam and Dean alike had put the people close to them in danger because of their stupid addictions. And yeah, Dean could at least cut Sam some slack because the kid had a freaking brother in Hell and, well, he was getting laid; he could even say that a part of Sam was actually in love with Ruby. But Dean –

Oh, crap, don't go there again. Yes, Dean had an almost-werewolf brother but it wasn't as bad, and he definitely wasn't getting laid, _and he wasn't in love._ Why couldn't he stop thinking about crap like that? He didn't _like _Cas; not _that _way. He couldn't possibly _like_ Cas. He was always a ladies' man, and damn good at it. He had too many problems right now to deal with a struggle with his sexual orientation and its fluidity. Like, yeah, he always said that he was open to anything when it came to sexual pleasure – he didn't ever have "guilty pleasures", if it was a pleasure, there was no need to feel guilty about it – but this? It was just too weird. He had never pictured himself liking or sexing another guy. More than thirty years of straightness were too much for him to be confused like this now, _and holy crap he couldn't believe that he was still thinking about this shit with Cas gone and Sam still half-infected with freaking werewolf poison._

By the way, why the heck had they summoned Cas back to Heaven? He was supposed to have lost most contact with those guys. Dean found himself worried about whether Cas would make it to Heaven without collapsing; he was far too weak these days.

Damn, when did this happen? When did Dean become the super-power angel guy? When did Cas fall this much? His Grace was supposed to be restoring itself, right? Then why did it take so long?

And then a horrible thought passed from Dean's mind and then nailed itself inside it, most painfully than almost anything else Dean had ever thought of so far.

It was his fault. He was draining the Grace out of Cas.

How could he ever be so stupid? He had a part of Castiel's Grace inside him, and Cas could still connect to it. The stronger Dean became, the more power he took away from Cas. Cas was falling so quickly because Dean was… levelling up.

Dean felt sick. There was no other explanation. If anything happened to Cas while he was powerless _because of him,_ he'd never forgive himself. He shook away the crazy thought of following Cas to Heaven, because 1) it was too freaking crazy, 2) he had absolutely no idea how to do it, 3) was he even allowed there, being a fake angel? 4) What if he drained Cas of every single drop of Grace he had and he suddenly went human in a place full of dickhead angels? And 5) _it was too fucking crazy_. He'd just have to wait. But holy hell, he was suffocating between these walls.

He got up and folded his wings into invisibility. He'd give anything to go up the roof and fly until he couldn't feel his wings, but he gave up on the idea. One, he didn't know if that would affect Cas and two, one of the only two instructions the angel had given him was "don't leave the motel". He guessed that flying his ass out would count as leaving the motel. Also, there was the issue of Sam; he couldn't go anywhere without leaving Sam all alone and asleep, and half-werewolf. He hoped he had at least managed to take out most of the darkness in his soul – he didn't think he could make it through many sessions of that shit.

What he did know was that he needed a drink. Fast.

He took the time to secure the room with every single monster trap he knew of. He knew he could summon the White Light and make the traps appear out of nowhere, but every thought of him using his powers, now that he knew what the consequences, made him sick. So he just took his time and did everything the traditional way.

About 45 minutes later, he went down to the reception. His wings were itchy, like they were poking his mind with thoughts of the "even hiding them drains Cas' powers" kind, but he couldn't do anything about that. He went to the café, which –thank God – was also functioning as a bar after 9. He dragged himself towards a stool and ordered a glass of scotch. He vaguely noticed that the café was too crowded – had something happened? Well, he didn't really care.

"Rough night?"

Dean turned his head to look at the girl next to him; Sally the waitress, if he wasn't mistaken. She was smiling sympathetically. She had a beer in front of her, and Dean had to admit she looked much better without the waitress uniform.

"You have no idea", he answered and got a sip from his drink. Her smile broadened and she came a little closer.

"Well, if you only think about the earthquake, it's enough to ruin any person's day", she said and gave a teasing laugh.

Dean looked at her, confused. "Earthquake?"

"This morning? The earthquake? Don't tell me you didn't feel it", she said, her crooked smile sending vibes of disbelief. Dean just shrugged and shook his head.

"Oh my God, I knew I didn't see you with the crowd", she laughed. "Were you sleeping? The whole building was almost torn down! And can you believe they've said nothing about it on the news?"

Dean hid his awkward blushing behind his drink. Great. Healing Sam had caused a freaking earthquake. Good job saving the world. "Well, I'm quite the sleeper", he murmured with an awkward crooked smile. She just laughed.

"I'm Sally, by the way", she said and gave him her hand. "I don't think I've introduced myself properly".

"Dean", he answered, shaking her hand. "Nice tattoo", he commented, seeing the small symbol in her wrist: a shape like a small Greek delta with a crescent moon next to it.

She smiled and leaned forward. "Why, thank you. It's Native American to symbolise the beauty of the arts".

"Sounds pretty interesting", said Dean and gave her his best smile. Yes, he was doing great. Just another normal night. The girl was into him, it wasn't hard to figure out; he could read her body language like an open book. She was pretty too; slim, with black hair and delicious brown eyes. Her breasts were small and round, and not supported by a bra; the light tank top she was wearing didn't help in hiding her nakedness underneath. She wasn't dressed provocatively –just a pair of skinny jeans to match her dark tank and converse shoes in the same shade – but Dean didn't mind; while he would always enjoy the sights a mini skirt and a strapless tank top had to offer, he usually preferred to leave the good parts for either his bed or his imagination. If the girl showed him everything right away, where was the surprise later? And boy, he would like to see the surprises on this one. He leaned towards her. "Any particular art you're into?"

"Well, I'm mostly into dancing… helps my flexibility", she purred and gave him a wink.

Okay, then. No more stupid thoughts for tonight. He needed to leave the whole world behind him. "I'd like to get a glimpse of that sometime".

"Or, you know… I could show you now", she said, and he felt her foot rubbing his leg.

Alrighty then. "Well, who am I to say no to that?" he said and drank the rest of his scotch with one gulp. Next moment, her lips were pressed fully into his.

Dean didn't realise when she managed to push him into the bathroom. Man, the girl knew how to kiss. Her tongue was caressing his mouth, her teeth softly biting his lip every now and then. She didn't even let him take a break for breathing.

Well, that was it. Normal Dean. No worries about anything else. That was how he rolled, right?

Sally's hand left his chest and moved to his back – boy, she was strong. Dean didn't complain; his middle name was I Like It Rough. He brought her closer and then –

"Oh, God –"

She pulled her hand away from his back like she had been electrocuted. "What? What did I do wrong?" she said, sincerely worried.

"Nothing, nothing", Dean said, embarrassed. "Come here", and he put his lips back on hers, placing her hand on his back again. Damn, those feathers really were sensitive. Dean knew she couldn't possibly know they were there, but he could feel every single move of her hand between them, and holy shit, it was so hot he was afraid he'd come too soon. Luckily, she soon moved her hands on his shoulders, rubbing them passionately. Dean wanted nothing more than letting his wings free and have them unfold, let them take part in this like every other part of his body.

Yeah, that wasn't happening. No need to freak the girl out. Pity she didn't know she was making out with a half-angel freak. Having her awesome hands between material feathers would be too good to be true.

_Don't let your mind wander, you ass. You haven't gotten laid in three months. Enjoy it._

Sally's lips left his for a moment. "Are you okay?" she whispered softly in his ear. "Want to move this to a room?"

Dean shook his head. "No, no, I'm okay", he panted. Her chocolate eyes could swallow him whole. While any other night she would have already been screaming his name, that night wasn't like that. "Close your eyes", he murmured, and dove into her neck.

She moaned softly. Dean kissed her neck, helping himself by creating a picture for his imagination and, well… performance. He vaguely imagined the same girl with deep blue eyes, and it seemed to work for him. Yes, she was really cool. Why did he need help to like her? She had soft skin, and smelled like jasmine soap, and her dark hair was beautiful.

Dean felt her hand on his back again and he muffled a moan in her neck. She let out a little laugh and Dean almost lost control – almost. God, how he wanted to let his wings out. If his own were so sensitive, well…

He imagined himself stroking the feathers of another pair of wings, and his mind formed the sound of a moan he had never heard, and till now hadn't even thought about.

"Gosh, Dean –"

"God! Oh, shit, I'm sorry –"

Sally was breathing heavily, but had a half-amused smile on her face. Dean was blushing again, happy to be in a bathroom at the moment, but pretty sure he'd ridicule himself before he reached the room. The stain in his pants was like a fucking neon sign.

"Sorry, baby, this just… it doesn't happen to me", he murmured while he went to the sink.

"Wow, it's been a while for you, huh?" the girl said, saving some part of her dignity by brushing her messed up hair with her fingers. "How long?"

"Some months", murmured Dean. Son of a bitch, that was too much.

"Well, don't worry, it can happen to anyone", she purred and stroked his hair. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah".

"Wanna give it another shot?" she whispered. "I'll make sure to make it last long this time."

Dean shook his head. "No. No, I'm sorry. I mean, for ruining your night", he said and, before she had the time to answer, he left the bathroom.

Dean climbed up the stairs as fast as possible, staring at his feet, not wanting to know if there were people staring at him or not. He rushed into the room and went straight for the shower. He unfolded his wings and let the cold water pour onto them; it was a great feeling. He wondered how much time would it take them to dry out; it was better than thinking anything else.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and entered the room. Still no sign of Cas. He reached for his sack, took out a pair of boxer briefs and wore them angrily. His brain was a total mess. He gave a look at Sam; still sleeping, still unmoving, still looking so peaceful that Dean wanted to punch him, just to bring him closer to the state he was actually in.

Dean covered Sam with a blanket and lied down above the covers of his bed. It was late October, so he supposed he should be cold, only he wasn't. He _tried_ to feel cold, just in case Cas was affected even by that little use of angelic power; no success.

He didn't know if he'd manage to sleep. The images in his head were too confusing. Sally turning into Cas, Sam staying asleep forever cause they couldn't find a cure, and white light, white light everywhere. The sun had risen when Dean managed to fight off the images and get some sleep.

It hadn't been a couple of hours till Dean heard the wing flutter that made him jump like he had been electrocuted.

"Cas?"

Yes, he was there. Standing in the middle of the room, serious as always, maybe a little sad. He looked at Dean solemnly, with that piercing look of his.

"Hello, Dean".

"Man, are you okay? What happened?" Dean asked, truly worried. Last day before the full moon, he thought, but pushed it away. Cas had been in freaking Heaven just now, this was too urgent. Castiel sighed.

"We need to talk."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: What am I doing, I'm having an exhibition in 2 months, I have a comic and a short animation film to finis… WHY do I keep writing fics? Oh that's right, because you're asking for it, my dears :D You guys can't even imagine how much I appreciate the love I'm getting for this fic. Seriously. It's my first one, I hadn't written anything in six years or so, and now… I mean the reviews I'm getting are so awesome. I want to cry from all the love. I know it's not a famous fic, but these reviews mean more to me than a hundred thousand views and faves. I love you all._

_Oh, and I apologise for the short chapter. I can assure you the end is worth it, though. Here comes the Destiel._

_By the way, something completely unrelated to any fic, but __**I'm begging you to read this**__: I'm completely broke and have an art school to pay. I deeply apologise for advertising myself so shamelessly here, but I'm a little bit desperate. I'm currently accepting commissions, because guess where I live in: Greece! Yay! No jobs! So if anyone of you is interested in having their fics illustrated in an affordable price, I'm the one for you. I'm a professional, by the way – so no sloppy stuff. The link's in my profile page. Thanks in advance!_

_**Chapter 11**_

"We need to talk".

Dean froze in his bed. His voice was gone. He was suddenly very aware of his environment and the image it created; Sam lying in his bed, like he was sleeping, a quite normal-looking Cas in the middle of the room, and a very naked Dean – yes, his boxer briefs were on, but didn't his wings count as "too personal"? So yeah – very, very naked.

All he could do was nod. "Just a sec", he mumbled. He got up and put on his jeans. Damn, he was too stressed to hide his wings; he turned to Castiel.

"Um, do you mind if I keep them out? If it's uncomfortable, I'll hide them, I swear".

"It's okay, Dean, I've seen them before. You've seen mine. Their sight does not annoy me", Cas answered, but he didn't look back at Dean. He instead turned his eyes on Sam and went close to him to check his temperature by touching his forehead. Meanwhile, Dean sat on his bed, his wings carefully folded behind him. He casually poked his pillow and then took it in his lap; he didn't want to have any unfortunate surprises like last night. His pants were tight, but he couldn't risk it.

"So, what happened, Cas?"

Castiel turned towards Dean. "We really need to talk."

"Yes, I know, Cas. You're not making a start, though. Why did they summon you to Heaven?" asked Dean, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

"They called me because of Sam".

Dean blinked, not sure about what he had heard. "Sam? Why Sam?"

"Well, not exactly Sam", Castiel said, hesitating. "They don't know it's Sam. But they sense there's an abomination around here, and they sensed angelic activity around it, so they assumed it was me trying to heal it. That's why they called me".

Dean tried very hard to ignore Cas referring to his 6'4" brother as an "it". "So, what do they want you to do about that?" he asked.

"They've been sensing the healing energy", explained Cas, "but they're very scared that if Sam –well, whatever they think it is – isn't healed until tomorrow, they'll just have another werewolf in the streets. They said they cannot allow that. So we either heal Sam by tomorrow, before the moon rises, or they're coming for him".

Dean took a deep breath. Okay, not that bad; they were planning on having Sam healed by nightfall anyway. But it was kind of annoying to have angels as well as witches on your heels. "Excuse me, but since when do they care about… you know, simple monsters?" Dean asked. "Don't they have demons and a post-Apocalyptic mess to take care of?"

"Apparently, some of them believe they need to be more… active", Cas explained. "And since they sensed an angel taking care of the problem, they assumed it's their business as well".

"Well, crap", remarked Dean. "But nothing actually changes, right? I mean, we still get to do what we have to do, we heal Sam, we get rid of the angels as well, and that's that".

"Not exactly".

Of course. Why would it be?

"Okay. What else?"

"They thought I was the one who was healing the creature. But they sensed angelic activity in the area while I was there, so they knew it couldn't possibly be me".

"Wait", Dean interrupted, "what angelic ability? I didn't do anything while you were gone! I was really careful not to!"

"Dean, you don't need to do something huge to draw attention to yourself", said Cas. "Just the fact that you are full of Grace, that you were probably hiding your wings or something similar, it was enough for them to spot you".

"So what happens now?" asked Dean. Yeah. It was already getting too much to deal with.

"They will eventually come looking for you. A new angel isn't something that happens often. They need to check on what's going on".

Dean stared at Cas. "What?"

Castiel's expression didn't change. "Do you want me to repeat that?"

Dean suppressed his anger. "No, dude. What I mean is… what the hell do you mean 'a new angel'? I'm no angel. I just have a piece of you in me, that don't make me no friggin' angel!"

Dean watched as a sarcastic smirk – holy shit it was scary – appeared on Castiel's face.

"You don't get it, do you?" the angel asked. "Your Grace is growing stronger and stronger. I have no idea how this happened. It's restoring itself inside you, as if it was yours from the beginning and you just spent a huge amount of it. It doesn't act like the shard of my own Grace that it originally was. It's your own Grace now; it's completely separated from mine. You're practically an angel now. Quite an unusual one, maybe, but I don't think there's much actual difference".

Dean repeated Castiel's statement inside his head several times. If someone attacked him with a club at that moment, he probably wouldn't notice. His eyesight was completely blurred; there was no way this was happening.

"Dean?"

It took a while before Dean remembered how to use his mouth. "Yeah". His voice came out hoarse. _Oh crap, let this not be an angel thing._

"Are you okay?"

"Are you freakin shittin' me? Of course I'm not okay!" Dean exploded. "Cas, this can't be happening! I can't deal with this! You're the angel here, _you_, not me! I can't be the reason you fall, man. I can't do that!"

Castiel tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm sorry, okay?" Dean cried out. "I've been the biggest jackass in the history of jackasses! I've been doing exactly what you told me not to, I've been messing around with your Grace. I've been practicing in every weird way possible, I freakin exorcised demons, Cas, I killed them with just my hand! And all this time I, I – I swear, I didn't know what I was doing! I didn't know what I was doing to _you_! I can't switch places with you, Cas, I can't! I can't become an angel in your stead! I can't watch you fall! Not because of my bullshit. Just… please". Dean tried to slow down his heartbeat. He was expecting anything now; Cas taking back his Grace at once, leaving, never coming back; Cas getting angry; Cas freaking falling in a blink of an eye or something. He didn't think he could take it.

What he didn't expect was Castiel kneeling beside him and gently placing his hand on his shoulder. "What makes you think I'm going to fall, Dean?" the angel asked, softly.

"I know what I've been doing to you, Cas", Dean said, not daring to face the angel. "I've been taking away your powers. I swear, I didn't know. I can't see you turning human because of me. You just… go ahead and take your Grace back. Right now. I don't care. I know you'll manage to heal Sam, I trust you with my life, man. More than that; I trust you with my brother's life. Just do it".

Castiel half-smiled. "Dean, I appreciate your concern, but I'm not falling".

Dean blinked. "You're not?"

"Not that I know of".

"But –"

"Dean, I have no idea why you thought you were draining me of my Grace, but this is definitely not the case. My Grace is fine and in place, as always".

Dean's heartbeat went nuts. "But… you were sleeping! You were eating; you were acting so… human, while I was doing all that crazy stuff!"

"I was just tired, Dean, and you were growing stronger", Castiel said. "As for 'acting human', I've spent too much time on Earth, I'm getting used to your ways. I even like them, actually".

"But –" Dean really had no idea what he was going to say.

"Dean, I already told you: you started off having a little piece of my Grace inside you, but when it was forced to activate, it took a life of its own. It used to be my Grace, but now it's grown, and it's healing itself, and it's all yours. You can keep it or throw it away and fall, and keep going with your life, completely normally, like before. But I have nothing to do with it now. It's your decision".

Dean felt the world spinning around him. "I have no idea how this works", he managed to say. Castiel's half-smile widened.

"I believe you're doing great, Dean."

"You're just saying stuff".

"I'm being honest with you. I don't know any other human that could deal with this so well."

"Yeah, because you don't know any other humans".

"And that's because I never felt the need to meet anyone else".

Dean lifted his head to face Castiel. The angel's eyes were full of compassion and – could it be? Dean could only think of the word "affection". He couldn't possibly let his mind touch the "L" word. Even like this, though…

"Cas, I…" he started, not knowing how to continue. He what? What could he possibly say to lift the load from his chest? What words could possibly describe his emotional mess? He had a Grace of his own. It wasn't Castiel's Grace calling back to him, wanting to be one with him, like Dean had thought till now. It wasn't just a side-effect. It was all… _him._ Him and his strange, inexplicable love for a supernatural being so freaking weird and unearthly, but still, so essential for Dean's own existence. He knew he couldn't ever again imagine his life without Castiel. Not because he was full of angel right now, not because he needed guidance; because he knew that it was time he stopped denying his feelings. He had always avoided and buried deep inside him everything hard and difficult, but as much as _this_ looked like it belonged to that category, it didn't have to be this way. He would never find out if he didn't ask. Nothing else mattered at that moment, and Dean didn't want anything else to matter. He had spent all his life miserable and protecting his family, and hell, he wouldn't have had it any different. But there came a time when he needed his own moment; a moment not for Hunter Dean, not for Brother Dean, not for Son Dean; he needed a moment for Dean and Dean alone. He needed something good for once. Everything in his life was so fucked up right now; and if it was all going to go wrong, at least he would do it right.

He took the angel's hand on his, his heart beating like crazy, his whole brain screaming at the weirdness of the situation. That didn't stop him. He raised his other hand and cupped Cas' cheek as gently as he could, given that his entire body was shaking.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Castiel muttered, but Dean ignored him.

It was now or never.

He quickly leaned forward and pressed his lips against Castiel's.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Yeah, I know y'all hate me for the last chapter. It was pretty bad and… well, the ending was probably a Moffat scale cliffhanger. I apologise, and I hope this chapter will be my redemption in your eyes. Don't think that I'm not gonna torture you a little, but I know that deep down you like it. If you didn't you wouldn't be watching Supernatural, either. _

_To make this sweeter, this is almost 6,500 words long. Oh yeah. I broke every personal record. Yay me._

_This chapter gives a clue on how a virgin angel reacts to the human ways. You're about to find out soon. I have to tell you that I decided to keep my promise for not putting sex on this fic. I'm not ready to write about it and maybe some of you are uncomfortable with it (which I doubt, but still, a promise is a promise). I'm giving you enough to be happy about, though. Or so I think. Anyway forgive me for not taking these two home the proper, human way, but you'll get some third base. And some weird angel sex that popped out of nowhere. I swear these bastards keep doing whatever they want with me. I swear I had no idea this would happen until it was there. It seems they really wanted to get some._

_I was kind of expecting to have more wing kink around, but I guess it'll come later. Also I'm changing the rating. I guess M is better now. Sex or no sex, shame on me for my dirty mouth. Or keyboard. Whatever._

_Three cheers for the person who finds the very subtle reference to another show. You get a hug for being a fellow ultra-geek._

_Also: the line is from a real poem (you'll soon find out what I'm talking about). It's from the collection "Maria-Nefeli" by Odysseas Elytis, and the line is a rough translation from Greek. My poor English translation skills don't do it justice._

_Written in present form, because of reasons. Past didn't suit it._

_**Chapter 12**_

Castiel's eyes widen as he feels Dean's lips on his own. He instinctively tightens his mouth, keeping it completely shut, not allowing Dean any access. His heart is pounding inside his chest; he immediately feels horrible for reacting this way. Dean opens his eyes and stops his unexpected gesture with as much awkwardness as Castiel has ever felt – and he has had his share.

Dean's hand slips from Castiel's cheek to his shoulder, and he retreats slowly. He looks away, embarrassed. Castiel can practically grasp the vibes of guilt coming from Dean's body.

"Sorry", the hunter says and he pulls his hand away from Castiel's shoulder; Castiel looks at Dean's hand and catches it. Dean's eyes are full of surprise as he glares at Castiel.

"I don't mind", Castiel says quietly and his palm cups Dean's hand, the angel's fingers spooning the hunter's and tangling with them, and then Castiel puts Dean's hand back on his cheek. "Do it again", he requests softly and leans towards Dean.

Dean just looks at Castiel for a second. Then he slips from his bed and kneels in front of the angel, and his hands wrap around his neck, and he kisses him again, this time with a passion he doesn't even know he hides inside him.

Castiel is a little more prepared this time, even though his heartbeat is faster than ever; he absent-mindedly worries a little about his vessel, he has no idea if this reaction is normal. He sees that Dean has his eyes closed, and it's a pity, because he has amazing eyes. He gets the hint, though, and he shuts his own, too; it actually feels more right this way. He realizes he probably has to follow Dean's lead and he opens his mouth, giving Dean permission to slip his tongue inside. Huh, this feels weird, but it's nice; Castiel has never thought that a muscle used for _tasting_ can feel the _taste_ of another muscle _meant for tasting_. He doesn't know if he's supposed to think about that right now, but he finds it odd and somehow fascinating. It seems a person can do a lot of pleasant things with their tongue; Castiel's impression of speaking and doughnuts being the best a tongue can have is proven wrong within a few seconds. He decides he is enjoying this very much.

Dean inhales deeply as his arms slip under Castiel's trench coat and wrap around his waist, the kiss still unbroken. Castiel realises he should probably be doing something with his own arms, so he raises his left hand hesitantly and puts it on Dean's ribs; he improvises and moves his right hand, then pulls it back a couple of times, unsure, and finally places it on Dean's left shoulder and rubs his skin softly, moving slowly to his bare chest and over his tattoo. Dean seems to like it, because he tightens his grip on Castiel's waist and he bites the angel's down lip gently as he releases him from the kiss. Castiel can hear Dean's heavy breathing.

"Cas?" Dean whispers and Castiel can actually hear the smile in his voice.

"Yes".

"You don't have to keep your eyes closed all the time".

"Oh". Castiel feels his cheeks warm and he opens his eyes. "My apologies".

Dean is staring into his eyes, smiling. Smiles always look good on Dean's face, and now that his eyes are glowing green, full of heavenly power, he looks even better. Castiel realises that he's been a fool for not realising before how amazing Dean is – well, for not realising it _in this way._ The first human feelings he ever experienced had been for Dean; this is a new one, though. Castiel is a little scared of it, but he wants to explore it even more.

Then Dean sighs; he takes his arms from Castiel's waist and slowly releases his shoulders from the angel's grasp with a bitter smile. Castiel doesn't know why, but he feels really, really disappointed.

"Cas, I –" Dean starts and he looks away. "I don't want to pressure you or anything. I'm sorry for this; I don't know what got into me".

Castiel frowns. "What's wrong?"

"I –" Dean laughs in a kind of crazy way and passes his fingers through his hair. "I freaking _kissed you",_ he says in a low voice and Castiel understands he is mostly talking to himself. "I freaking _made out with a guy in a suit"._

"Dean –"

"I can't believe I just had my freaking tongue inside the mouth of a freaking Angel of the Lord", Dean mutters and he rubs his neck awkwardly, still not looking at Castiel.

Castiel pouts and narrows his eyes. "Dean, I don't know if you have noticed your ten-foot wingspan, but you are somehow a _freaking_ Angel of the Lord yourself. How does _me_ being one make all _this_ weird?"

Dean blinks and opens his mouth for an answer, but he doesn't find one. "Yes, but you're a guy_"_, he says, but it's obvious to Castiel that it's just an excuse; he has been able to tell when Den is lying for a long time now. "Doesn't it bother you? Being with another man?

"Dean, you are aware of the fact that I'm neither a man nor a woman. My vessel just happens to be male", Castiel reminds him. "It was mere luck that it was Jimmy Novak who heard my true voice instead of a woman. If I had been inside a female vessel, would it be easier for you?"

Dean doesn't answer at once. "Well, I think I just would have noticed earlier that I'm into you, that's all. Because of the default I was kinda raised with. It's mostly you I care about. I mean", he chuckles awkwardly, "_you _might not have a proper gender and all, but you can't deny that your body _is _male. Isn't this against the Bible or something? Not that_ I _really care, to make it clear", he adds quickly, "but I'll understand if you have a problem with it".

"The Bible was written by humans, Dean", Castiel says softly. "How can God forbid or condemn something as pure as love?"

Dean blushes; he has never had the "I love you" talk with anyone before. Ten minutes from the first kiss to the appearance of the "L" word would have definitely been a no-go for him if things were different; but this is Cas we're talking about, and if that's not love between them, then Dean doesn't have a name for it. He smiles.

"Are you sure about this?" he insists.

"The question is, are _you_ sure about this, Dean?" Castiel asks back. "Because you started something and I can see you're too scared of it".

"Aren't you? Being your first time and all?"

"I am indeed. But I don't think I mind".

"Good, because I'm going to kiss you again."

"I would like that".

Castiel's sentence isn't even over and Dean actually jumps on him and pins him to the floor, kissing him like there's no tomorrow.

Dean is impressed at how easy it is for him to hold Cas down. Either the angel is letting him take control, or Dean's really grown stronger; well, with all the angel juice inside him it's not something to be surprised about. He can't believe he's actually kissing Cas, but somehow, it feels so right. Why the hell had a male body stopped him from doing this before? It's _Cas_ he cares about, he would probably be doing the same if the angel had been inside a dolphin, for all he knows.

Well, it might be Cas' first time, but Dean is having his firsts, too. He normally would have reached under a tank top or something for massaging a breast by now; a loosened tie over a flat chest is something new. Well, there's a first time for everything. He can feel the angel's stubble rubbing on his own, but he finds it more amusing than strange. He feels Cas' gentle hands on his bare chest, sliding to his ribs and reaching towards his back and the base of his wings –

He stops the kiss and pulls his face away from Cas', terrified in realisation. Castiel is so surprised that his eyes look like they're about to pop out of his head.

"_What?_"

"Crap".

"Dean, I've never done this before, but I have a feeling this isn't how it's supposed to go".

Dean shakes his head. He remembers how he first realised how sensitive his wings are –the first person to ever mess with them is _Sam_. The weird deja-vu makes Dean shiver. "Man, I can't do this _with my brother asleep in the room_", he says, and Castiel can swear he's never seen him more disgusted. He doesn't really understand why; it's not like they are doing something bad. They're just showing their affection towards each other.

"Why?" he asks.

"Because!" Dean exclaims. "It's gross! There are some things you don't do in front of people, especially in front of your brother".

Castiel tilts his head, but decides not to pressure Dean on that. "Okay", he agrees for Dean's sake. "What do you want to do?"

Dean thinks about it for a second, and the only idea he gets causes a grimace.

"Oh, God. I'm so gonna regret this later".

Deep down, he knows he isn't going to.

()

"Good morning, my sweethearts".

Dean gives Mrs Loreley his best smile; he thought of telling Cas to be as charming as he could, but he's afraid he'll end up looking more creepy than loveable. For an angel, his natural charisma is surprisingly low.

"Hello again, Mrs Loreley", says Dean and gives a subtle nudge to Cas, who gives a quick "hello". The lady's smile stays in place, as always.

"Congratulations for your performance yesterday, dear", she says. "I was amazed! We haven't seen anything so fascinating in –"

"Yes, yes, thank you", interrupts Dean, still smiling. Damn, he really hasn't got any time to waste. "Look, Mrs Loreley, we thought about it and we decided it would be best if we got two rooms for the rest of the days we'll be staying here".

She blinks in surprise, but doesn't lose her smile. "Oh. Of course, my dears. To be honest, I would have expected you to switch sooner. I'd thought you'd like to be alone".

Dean coughs. "No, no, it's nothing like that, it's –"

Castiel turns to him, confused. "It's not?" There's a thump near the floor. "Why did you kick me?"

Dean looks at him, not knowing if he should laugh or cry. He turns back to Mrs Loreley, ignoring Cas' hurt expression. "See", he starts, "my brother's a little sick and he needs to rest. We've called a nurse to take care of him, but we're afraid he has chicken pox, and neither of us has had it, you know how these things are".

Mrs Loreley takes a sad expression and Dean is almost sure she that she has bought it. "Oh, the poor thing!" she says. "Can I do something for him?"

"No, no, don't worry", Dean reassures her. "The nurse will be here any minute; she'll just take care of him while he's sleeping, in case he needs something".

"Okay, then", Mrs Loreley says and she writes down a couple of things. "You just wait here until your room is ready, okay?"

Dean nods and he leads Cas to an old couch at the lobby. They sit casually next to each other and Dean tries not to think that his mouth still tastes like Castiel, because he's sure if he does, he'll jump the guy on the spot.

Cas looks at him. "Are you sure about leaving your brother alone, Dean?"

"He won't be alone", Dean protests. "His nurse will be here soon, and if she's hot and slutty even better for the kid, and the room's full of hidden devil traps and every possible fucking protection symbol in existence. He's gonna be fine. And the silver pendant is going to keep him in place, so there's no chance he'll attack the girl or anything. Plus I can't heal him, not like this. If I even try to come near him right now, I'll blow him up; I don't think my brother's guts are where I want to spend all my suppressed energy at the moment".

Castiel nods, and then a small, shy smile appears on his face. _Yeah, you play innocent, you feathery bastard, but you get everything, _Dean thinks, smiling, his chest overflowing with affection for the big child beside him.

They wait in silence for a bit. Dean can remember he has some problems right now, but it's physically impossible for him to despair. Not with Cas looking at him like this. He suddenly recalls something Sam had mentioned once, during his poetry obsession, some line from a poem:

_My God, the blue you spend so that we don't look at you!_

He stares into Castiel's eyes, and suddenly this simple line is stuck in his mind.

Castiel stares back, and the corner of his mouth goes up a little bit. "What?" he asks.

"Nothing", Dean shrugs. "I'm just wondering why I hadn't done this before".

"I believe it must have been because you were struggling with your sexual orientation, you were not very open to the spectrum between gender and physical sex and because you have the habit of swallowing your feelings", Castiel suggests, his stare of affection unchanged, and even though a little part of Dean wants to punch him, the rest of him wants to laugh. He knows Cas is just speaking his mind in his own weird, alien way, ignoring completely the basic rules of social interaction. It's one of those things that make him… _him_; one of the things that Dean finds so adorable and make him not care the slightest about Jimmy Novak's maleness.

Suddenly Dean frowns.

"What is it?" Castiel asks.

"Um… I just thought of something", Dean says, and it takes a lot of courage to say the next sentence, because God, he doesn't think he can handle it. "Is there a chance… that Jimmy has something to say about all this? I mean, the guy had a freaking family and now…" he doesn't manage to go on. Castiel seems to concentrate.

"Yes, he's actually yelling inside my head right now".

Dean's heart sinks. "Great."

"He's actually screaming 'go for it, you moron'. If I'm not mistaken, he believes that this should have happened way earlier".

Dean stares, awestruck. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yes, he trusted me with his body to do whatever I please with it", Castiel shrugs. "I think he's getting used to being a voice in my head".

"It's all okay, then", Dean says and he's not sure if it's a question. He looks at his watch. Damn, why is it taking so long? He looks towards the reception, just in case, and then the main entrance. Unexpectedly, he does see something interesting.

"Cas". He nudges the angel and gets up. "That must be her. Finally".

He walks towards the entrance to speak to the girl in the nurse apron, and Cas follows him. She looks around, searching, and then she sees Dean coming towards her and smiles.

"Oh, hello", she says. "Were you the one who called for me?"

"Yes, thanks for coming", says Dean and shakes her hand. "I'm Dean, this is Cas".

"And as you probably know because you called me, I'm Sharon, nice to meet you", she says politely. She seems very nice and Sam is probably in good hands. Dean looks at Cas, who makes the slightest shaking of his head – great, he doesn't sense anything evil from her. Dean doesn't sense anything either but hey, he's new at this, he might be mistaken.

"My brother's asleep upstairs", Dean informs the girl, "let me show you the way".

"Um, we need to fill the paperwork first, if you don't mind", she reminds Dean, still very polite.

Dean's about to agree, but then he glimpses a gesture from Mrs Loreley in the reception; she's mouthing something like "your room is ready" or "your moose is heavy" or something, and since he doesn't think anybody is moving Sam , Dean chooses to believe it's the first one. He turns back at Sharon. "Do you mind if we take care of that later? We, er, have sort of something to attend to."

She's taken aback a little bit, but she smiles. "Alright. Show me to the room, then, and I'll take care of your brother".

"You guys go ahead, I'm gonna show her where to go", says a female voice and they all turn around to face Sally the waitress. She's holding a dish with breakfast on it and she smiles at them. Dean looks away, but she doesn't give any signs that yesterday night even happened.

"It's okay, we'll show her", says Dean.

"I'm going upstairs anyways", she shrugs. "It's no big deal".

Dean looks at Castiel, who shrugs. Dean sighs and gives Sharon the key. "Take care of him, okay?"

"No worries", she reassures him and follows Sally upstairs. Dean doesn't wait to see them reach the stairs, and he strides to the reception.

"Here you go, honey", says Mrs Loreley and gives him the key, showing him the direction he should follow. "Room 109, fourth door on your right down the corridor. I didn't have a room in the same floor as your brother, I'm sorry".

"Thanks a lot, Mrs Loreley".

"Do you want one of these?" she asks and shows them the small pile of "Do Not Disturb :)" signs. Dean winces but stays calm.

"It's okay, thank you", he says and walks away casually, followed by Castiel.

Mrs Loreley watches them as they take the turn and head for their room. "Sick brother, all right", she mumbles. "Probably the poor boy got sick of all the lovemaking in his room". She giggles at her own dirty mind and opens the book she hides under her papers, sighing; Mr Darcy truly is gorgeous.

()

This is it.

They're inside.

They're inside, the curtains are closed and the door is locked.

Suddenly, something that till now was just an impulsive act turns into a plan. They don't have any more excuses. They're not out of control, they're not acting on an instinct; they're just… there. And they are both very aware of each other's presence.

Dean notices that the room has two beds that are pushed together. For a moment, he wonders if he should protest to Mrs Loreley for assuming stuff again when he sees her, or thank her, or just say nothing. He realises he doesn't care. He has to admit that her insight on the road he is walking on has proved better than its own.

He looks at Cas, who is just standing there, awkwardly poking at the mattress. Dean smiles and Cas looks at him.

"Dean, I am terribly unaware of what I should be doing now", Castiel admits.

Dean laughs and approaches Castiel. The angel looks a little scared, but Dean isn't worried. "Look", he says softly, "I'm gonna take it as far as you want. Anytime you wanna stop, just tell me. Okay?"

Castiel nods and Dean strokes the angel's cheek, smiling. He can't believe how much he wants this. He slowly slips his arm around Cas' shoulders and shudders as the angel does the same. Dean leans forward and kisses him, softly at first, just to make sure Cas is okay; but Cas is a fast learner and his tongue slips into Dean's mouth, giving him a God-knows-where it-comes-from taste of mint; angel thing, Dean decides and he pulls Cas closer.

Cas, on the other hand, can't believe how great this feels. He mentally congratulates himself for remembering to close his eyes, as it appears it's customary. For the first time since he got a human body, he actually feels too hot inside it. He feels his blood pumping in his veins, and he notices a rush in a certain place that till now he hadn't really found a use for. It's a little frustrating, and Cas feels he needs to satisfy a need he didn't even know he could have. He instinctively pulls Dean even closer, enjoying the hunter's sudden, pleased inhaling, and rubs his groin gently against Dean's leg; he doesn't know if that's the right thing to do, but the physical contact pleases him.

Dean is hard before he feels Cas' crotch against his thigh, and this unexpected move from the angel gets to him even more. He slips his hands under Cas' trench coat and slowly tries to pull it off him; a muffled chuckle leaves his lips as he has to nudge Cas to make him notice that he needs to let go of Dean in order for his coat to come off. Cas goes with the flow, and doesn't stop his kissing; as soon as the trench coat is off, Cas' arms are again under Dean's, groping his shoulder blades over his T-shirt. Dean feels the moves on his other-dimensional wings and moans; he can't believe how much more sensitive they are now that it's Cas who's touching them, even if they're currently hidden.

Dean gives a soft bite to Castiel's lip and he gently breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, longing for more. He sees Cas opening his eyes, a confused, even sad look in his face.

"Did I do something wrong?" Cas mutters.

"No, no", Dean reassures him softly. "I just…" he licks his lips and lets his hand caress Castiel's neck, slipping under his shirt. "Wanna skip some clothing?" Dean doesn't want to use his usual routine, nor make a move that Cas isn't ready for. Damn, Dean's experience is mostly based on slutty girls (with the rare exceptions), and guiding a virgin angel guy through his first sexual experience isn't exactly his division. He trusts his instincts, though, and as long as they both feel good, everything's fine.

Castiel takes a look at his clothes. "Okay", he says and Dean suddenly knows what he's about to do, and grabs his shoulder.

"Hey, hey", he says and Cas looks at him. "No mojo-ing your clothes off", he says with a smirk. "It's no fun. Let me, alright?"

Cas nods again. He stays still as Dean gives him a soft little reassuring kiss, and lets his body relax as Dean slips off his suit jacket and lets it fall on the floor, over the pile of cloth that is his trench coat. Dean pushes him gently on the bed and Castiel sits obediently; maybe it's better to let Dean take the wheel, he's more experienced. Dean loosens Castiel's tie and takes it off, throwing it together with everything else. He knows how to unbutton a shirt in seconds, only now he takes his time; this isn't a fast hook-up, it's Castiel's first time and Dean wants to make it as special as possible for him.

When the shirt is off, Dean spends a few moments staring at the movement of Castiel's chest, as he breathes faster than usual; in fact, Dean is pretty sure Cas doesn't need to breathe, but just the fact that he's doing it now makes it even better. Cas isn't particularly muscular, but he's fit and Dean finds himself admiring a man's beauty for the first time; yeah, it's Cas and not his vessel that Dean cares about, but this body is so trademark Castiel that Dean can't _not_ like it. He smiles and pushes Cas back so that he's half-lying on the bed, his elbows supporting his weight. Dean throws off his shoes and climbs up the bed, bringing himself over Castiel, one leg on each of the angel's sides, half-kneeling, half-laying on him. He looks deep into Cas' eyes and he knows there's no doubt in there, there's only mutual trust and the desire to keep going. He kisses Cas again and he makes a move to take off his own T-shirt, but he finds Cas' hand stopping him. He looks at Cas and the angel smiles.

"Let _me_ now", he demands so politely that Dean stays still, and savours every moment of Castiel's hands trying to work out how you undress a man. He takes off Dean's T-shirt and looks at him with a questioning look, then glances at the pile of clothes on the floor, then looks at Dean again and Dean nods, and Cas throws the T-shirt along with everything else, and he smiles. Then his arms are around Dean's neck again and he pulls himself up to attack Dean's lips passionately. He might have no experience with how this is supposed to go, but he particularly enjoys this part, and he's intending to have as much of it as he can.

Dean's hands stop supporting his weight as he lets go and falls wholly on Cas, grabbing him passionately, stroking his cheeks and stubbly jawline, their naked chests a perfect fit for each other. It's the first time that Dean isn't worried about squeezing anything sensitive while he's on top of his partner, and it actually feels nice. His pants are now feeling super tight as his crotch is rubbing against Cas', and he's starting to feel like he's gonna explode.

He feels Cas' hand on his bare back, rubbing his shoulder blade and he has to break the kissing again.

"Cas", he mumbles.

"Yeah". Cas is shaking. And their pants aren't even off. Imagine that.

Dean just has to say it. "I wanna let my wings out".

Cas smiles and nods. He kisses Dean again and now that the hunter's not trying to hold it in, there's a flutter and his wings are out, spreading behind him, trembling.

"Oh, God…" he mutters. This feels so good.

"Dean", Cas says, shyly. Dean looks at him. "I'd rather you didn't call my father's name when you're trying to please me sexually. If you don't mind".

Dean stares at him for a moment and then bursts into laughter. Cas blushes, but Dean strokes his cheek again and kisses him tenderly.

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind", he mumbles, his lips still stuck to Cas'. Castiel seems to think of something.

"I'm taking over", he suddenly announces and before Dean has the time to do anything, Cas has grabbed him and somehow he's switched places with him (yeah, that thought about Dean being as strong as Cas now? Forget it) and he's sitting on top of him. Dean is caught off guard –and actually surprised both at Cas' speed an at the fact that his wings are doing pretty okay under the weight of his body – but not as much as when Cas moans softly, and there's no light his time, just a sound of flutter and bones cracking, and then Castiel's wings are out, as magnificent as Dean remembers. The hunter has a feeling like they're hiding the entire room, because he swears he can look at nothing else but that feathered wonder right now.

"Wow", Dean mutters. Castiel smiles, a little shyly, but Dean can see through that crap and he knows the angel isn't nearly as innocent as he looks.

"If you're going to have them out, so am I", says Castiel.

"I'm not complaining", says Dean and smirks. He thinks Castiel's deep black -blue wings are awesome since the first time he saw them, but now… well, let's just say that last time they didn't give him such a hardcore boner.

Cas leans onto Dean and kisses him again. Dean, between the kisses, laughs at how the virgin angel seems to like it rough, so he puts his hands on Cas' butt cheeks and squeezes them, causing a short, surprised humming. He moves upwards, going for Cas' waist and lower back, but he can't stop himself and moves his fingers even higher, reaching for the base of Cas' wings.

Dean's fingers stroke something soft and fluffy, and Cas moans in surprise and something like an electric current runs through his body. He looks at Dean, looking both scared and amused. Dean feels a little uncomfortable.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" he whispers and the angel shakes his head.

Dean isn't sure about this, though; yes, he's pretty good at sex but he's definitely a wing virgin. He tries something else, something that he's not very confident about either but it seems simpler. He kisses Cas in the neck and, as he snuggles him, he slowly slips his hand inside Cas' pants and clutches his thigh, before he tries to reach for something more private; even though he can feel through their pants that both their cocks were happy about all this.

Cas makes a face, though, and Dean stops. "What?"

"Dean…"

"Are you okay?" Dean strokes the angel's face, and Cas looks embarrassed.

"I'm not sure I… I mean, I like it, but…"

"You want me to take it slow?" Dean asks softly, and brings himself a little higher.

"I'm sorry", Cas murmurs, "I don't want to disappoint you".

Dean smiles with sympathy. "Hey, hey, you're doing great", he says and he means it. Damn, for a virgin angel Cas truly is doing great. Dean didn't really expect to go more than first base today. Okay, maybe now he's cursing his dick a little bit, and he knows he's got to do something for it, but it's the first time in his life that he's doing this with someone so important to him and he'd never ruin it. He tries to ignore his trembling. "Do you want to stop?" he asks.

Castiel leans backwards and is now just sitting on Dean's thighs, his wings folded on his back. "Yes and no", he says and tangles his fingers on his lap. His breathing is still a little heavy and Dean can see the drops of sweat on his collarbone. "I'm just experiencing too many human sensations at once and it feels like not even my wings are something as personal as my genitalia".

Dean tries to keep a straight face, but there's no chance. Any romantic mood is suddenly gone. He laughs loudly, even more when he sees Cas' expression.

"You're mocking me", Cas complains.

"No, man", Dean says and shakes his head. He pushes himself up and now he's just having the angel on his lap. "You really have to learn the bed talk terms, though. Just so you know, 'genitalia', 'penis' and stuff: not acceptable".

Cas tilts his head. "Why?"

"Because you're ruining the atmosphere", Dean laughs. "When you like it rough, and don't you play innocent with me, cause I saw what you like, you're allowed to say 'dick'. Okay?"

Castiel seems to think about it, then he makes a grimace. "I'm sorry I ruined this for you", he says and looks away.

"Don't say that", Dean says and strokes the angel's neck and shoulder. "It's your first time, and trust me, I've seen enough first times. Yours was pretty great".

"Next time I'll do it your way", Cas promises and Dean can only stare at him. It's real. There's gonna be a next time, Castiel is sure of it. The strange thing is, Dean was also sure of it from the beginning. It's not an experiment; it's just an expression of feelings long suppressed. He shakes his head, though.

"Next time you'll do whatever makes you comfortable", he says. "If you're not yet in terms with your human body and its functions, then we'll wait till you are".

"Are you in terms with your angel body and its functions, Dean?" Castiel asks softly. Dean eyes him before he answers.

"Yeah, I think I am".

"Do you still want to go on with this?"

"Not if you don't want to".

"Then I want to, and this time we'll do it my way".

And then he's holding Dean in his arms, and Dean knows that hell yes, he wants to do it Cas' way, no matter what that means, and he knows Cas can feel how much he wants it; and the White Light is all over them. Dean is almost blinded, and then he realises that he's not on his bed anymore, and Cas is holding him but not like _his arms are holding him,_ he's somewhere all around him, filling him up and keeping him safe. Dean feels the wind on his feathers and skin, only they're not there anymore; and he can feel his body, he knows _he's there,_ only there's not a physical body. He's not scared. He remembers his own White Light and it makes him feel a lot better. He summons it but it doesn't come because it's all around him already. He tries to note what's happening around him.

_Cas?_

_Yes, Dean._

_Cas, is that you? _

_Of course it's me._

_You sound so different, man._

_I know._

_You're not gruff._

_I don't have any vocal chords._

_Why do I sound the same?_

_Because it's the only way you know, and you only have one form, angelic or not._

_Is this your true form? Why can't I see you?_

_Be patient, you'll get used to the Light. It can be overwhelming to the untrained eye. This doesn't happen a lot, you know._

_Where are we?_

_Where do you want to be?_

_Are we in Heaven?_

_No._

_What is this place?_

_This is where angels declare and confirm their love, Dean._

_You mean where angels …mate?_

_Yes. It does not happen often, because we don't die easily. Every young angel is born of the combination of the Grace of two angels, so yes, mating happens. And yes, it happens for pleasure, too, even though not as often as in humans. Now that you have your own Grace, I can show you everything._

…

…

…_so this is your way?_

_This is my way._

Dean knows that the fucking huge source of Grace that's surrounding him is, in every way, Castiel. He's still blinded, but every other sense of his is working in triple capacity. He feels tiny, but at the same time, he feels his Grace growing stronger, longing to touch Castiel's Grace, and he knows that if he's naked in a bed, he's a million times naked here.

He doesn't care.

It's him and Castiel. He doesn't need to see him. He's heard him. He feels him. He smells him, and he suspects Castiel has chosen to keep the familiar scent of sweat and earth and cloud to make him comfortable, and Dean can even smell his leather jacket and Cas' trench coat, and the inside of the Impala, and the scent of freshly-baked pie, and every scent that would ever make him feel like home. He tastes mint and Castiel's human skin, and he doesn't need to move his body to touch Castiel because every single part of his soul is wrapped around him and it's absorbing parts of his existence and gives him parts of his own in return, and Dean knows he and Cas have no secrets anymore, and if this is what an angel is like, then he's fine with becoming one for real.

He hears the familiar flutter of a hundred wings and he knows it's not only Cas, it's him too, because he feels the non-existent wind on them. His entire being is consumed by the power of this amazing angel's love him, and he doesn't have to say that he loves him too because his very soul is screaming it at him. He's sure he can hear music now, but not any music that he even knew, only a haunting melody that makes him shiver, and he realises it's still Castiel's voice, his true voice, which how could ever be just one voice, when it could be a hundred different ones, and all of them shouting Dean's name. Dean reaches a climax that he knows would allow him to hear a human's thoughts and past, if he were on Earth; he can hear the entire universe. And suddenly he feels tired but he's still on top of the world, and he can feel the rotation of the earth. But this becomes too strange and he would be out of breath if he had been breathing. And right at the moment when he thinks he can't take it anymore, he's too exhausted, he suddenly get swallowed by a wave of excitement and he doesn't have a body anymore, not even the part of conscience that made him whole; he's sharing a conscience with Castiel, and there's not two of them, there's just one, and they're feeling so ancient and so young, and they're loving it and wonder what the human way feels like, and they laugh at the thought of it because they know how it feels and yet they don't, and this is so _fucking strange_ but they both know it was just meant to be.

And then the White Light becomes less bright and there are two of them again, and Dean he's sure he can smell his own sweat, but maybe it's just a reflex. And he knows there's no turning back now. Not because Cas is making him, but because he wants to.

He's here, and he can feel the angel, _his _angel, and he wouldn't change it for the world.

_Remind me to buy Mrs Loreley a drink, will you?_

_Yes, I believe we owe her one._

And right here, for a moment that lasted for a second and forever, life is good.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Hello again, my dears :D_

_I hope you enjoyed last chapter. Terribly long, right? I know. I don't care cause you're reading this, which means you still like it :D _

_Sorry to take so long, but stuff kept me from writing this week. Good stuff, but a distraction nonetheless. I hope it turned out good, because I had a major writer block near the end and I kept writing only because of guilt towards you. I used to update three times a week, and look at me now… T.T_

_As for the werewolf things on this chapter: I couldn't recall everything about the Supernatural werewolves, so I went with the flow of most myths. Please excuse me._

_Bonus! As a thank you for the part Mrs Loreley played in our boys getting together (cause you can't deny it, she's everyone's inner shipper fangirl), I'm going to do her a favour and recommend you listen to the Blackmore's Night song, "Loreley". It's one of my favourites and it always cheers me up. _

_Enjoy and tell me what you think!_

_**Chapter 13**_

_Dean?_

_Yeah._

_I think we should go back now._

_Mmmm._

_I'm serious. Do you have any idea how long we've been here?_

_I don't care. I like it here._

_Yes, you care. It's time to go back. Sam needs us._

That obviously manages to catch Dean's attention. He hasn't forgotten about Sam, but he has definitely lost track of time. These things can happen when there's no sun or watches to measure time, or when you don't have a physical body to tell you that it's hungry or sleepy. A world of white light doesn't give you much info.

_How do we go back?_

_Are you ready to go back?_

_Yeah._

_Good._

Dean feels Cas hugging him again – he is now completely used to these weird, non-physical hugs – and he grabs his angel tight. He sees the white world spinning around him and then he has eyelids again to close against the blinding light, and he's sitting on his bed, his whole body clenched tight on Cas', their wings folded on their backs, everything feeling exactly like the moment they left.

Dean forgets to breathe for a moment and he suddenly remembers he should probably do so. He inhales and coughs; his body feels strange. He opens his eyes and shuts them again, feeling dizzy; were there always so many colours in the world, so many freaking _details_? Why would someone draw little flowers on the wallpaper? He shakes his head and un-attaches himself from Castiel, trying to find his balance.

"Are you feeling okay, Dean?"

Dean is almost surprised. He's gotten so used to Cas' real voice that this one…

Well, who's he kidding, it's still Cas. Human-like, maybe, and so _tiny,_ compared to what he actually looks like, and Dean wonders how the hell can Jimmy Novak's body hold Castiel inside it without exploding. He can't even imagine how squeezed Cas must be in there. He remembers he has to answer a question.

"Yeah, I'm good", he says and look, he can still use his vocal chords. He feels a little heavy, but he knows it's a matter of minutes before he's back to normal. "Just… give me a sec".

Dean goes to the bathroom and puts his head and torso under the water. He doesn't bother using a towel; he goes back to the room, dripping water everywhere, and he looks at Cas.

Oh God, Cas.

The angel has folded his legs under him, and his one hand is holding the other in his lap, and he's still shirtless, his magnificent wings not tightly folded on his back, but spread just a little bit, just enough to make Dean wonder how someone can be so perfect. Castiel is looking at him, and even though he doesn't look any different than any time before their little angel experience, Dean can't stop thinking about what he saw there, about what he felt. In his mind, this Cas and the one over there are exactly the same, one completing the other.

"Feeling better?" the angel asks.

Dean nods. "Yeah. Are you okay?"

"I am". Cas half-smiles. "I am… very happy, Dean".

Dean returns the smile. "Me too, Cas".

He walks to the window and opens the curtains.

"Huh, look at that!" he exclaims. "Still morning! I could swear we were up there for at least four or five hours!"

"It's the next morning, Dean. Around 9.30, I believe".

Dean turns and looks at Cas, his eyes wide-open. "Excuse me?"

"It's Thursday morning".

"We were up there for _a whole day?"_

"20 hours, to be exact".

"We were doing it in Heaven for 20 hours with my brother down here in the hands of a nurse?"

"We weren't in Heaven".

"Gee, thanks! I feel better now".

"Dean, relax", Cas says and for some reason, it's easy for Dean to actually listen to him. "We weren't just hanging out up there".

"Hell yeah, we weren't", Dean says and can't hold back a smirk, which of course, Castiel ignores.

"I mean, what we did… such a connection isn't just for fun, you know", Castiel says. For God's sake, the guy can't even mention sex when he has already done it – and in the most non-dirty way possible.

"What do you mean?" Dean asks.

"We were connected in every way, Dean. I believe you'll find you don't have any trouble controlling your powers now", Cas informs him.

"What, you mean that having sex with you upgrades me or something?"

"If you want to put it that way", Cas says. "It's quite difficult to have two angelic Graces connect this much and not grow stronger; besides, just the fact that you found yourself in such a sacred place is sure to have given you something. I believe you will be able to heal Sam in the blink of an eye".

Dean lets the info sink in. "Okay, let's go fast then. I wanna get this over with as fast as possible. That's enough werewolves and witches for me, man. I just wanna have a normal breakfast with my brother and – and you".

Was he going to say "and my friend"? "and my partner", "boyfriend", what? He really doesn't know what his relationship with Cas is considered to be at the moment, but he doesn't have time for this. He hides his wings easily and he wears his T-shirt and his shoes, and glimpses at Cas as he just takes a look at his clothes and he's suddenly fully dressed. Maybe Dean should be impressed, only he isn't. He just smirks and picks up his phone from his bedside table.

"Shit, we've left the poor girl alone with Sammy all night", he says as he looks at the time in his phone. He half-expects to find a couple of annoyed messages from –what's her name again? – Sharon, but there's nothing. He feels a little guilty about the girl; she hadn't agreed to an all-nighter. He shrugs it off; if she had a problem and she wanted to leave, she could have tried to reach them somehow. Not that they'd noticed if she'd knocked down their door, being busy fucking each other like there's no tomorrow in another dimension and all that, but she had his number. There would have been a call if something was wrong.

Dean walks to the door and reaches for the knob, but he turns and looks at Cas, who is coming after him; he smiles. If you can tell a good or a bad day from the start, he was going to give this one a pretty damn good beginning.

"Good morning", Dean says and then he leans forward and kisses Cas. The angel responds at once, and Dean knows he's not going to get tired of this soon.

They separate their lips and Dean smiles again as they leave the room. Dean waves at Mrs Loreley as they see her sitting at the café; she waves back, looking extremely happy. They start walking up the stairs.

"So this is it, right?" Dean asks, as they are completely alone in the corridor. "It's done. Sam is about to be healed, and then it's all back to normal. I mean, for Sam".

"I believe so". Cas hesitates. "May I ask what you're planning to do?"

Dean sighs. Now that he's not in angel-land, this whole thing seems far weirder. Not bad, but definitely weirder. "For now, I plan on fixing my brother", he says and Cas doesn't insist.

Dean puts his hand in his pocket to find the key, and he remembers he's given it to Sharon. He groans and knocks at the door.

No answer.

He looks at Cas, whose solemn face is back.

Don't panic. Maybe she's in the shower. Or asleep.

He knocks harder.

No answer.

He bumps his fist at the door several times. "Sharon?" he shouts. "It's Dean! Open up!"

No answer.

"Shit, shit shit shit shit shit". He takes out his cell, finds the girl's number and calls it.

He knows he's heard this song before, because you can hear it everywhere. It's one of those new ones that he doesn't give a crap about. He knows that he's gonna hate it from now on, though.

Because it's coming from inside the room.

He hangs up. He backs away and gets his foot ready for bringing the door down, but then he remembers he doesn't have to. He looks at Cas and the angel nods, and the next moment they're both inside the room, followed by the little fluttering of their wings. Dean doesn't have the time to consider the irony of himself doing exactly what he's been bitching to Cas about for years, because what he's seeing is an omen of nothing good.

Sam isn't there.

Sharon isn't here either, but some parts of her are.

"No, dammit, _no_".

Dean bangs his fist on the wall. Half the room is full of blood; the walls, the floor, the bathroom door. And some remains of a body, chewed and maimed beyond recognition, some blonde hair and pieces of a white apron giving away who it used to be.

Dean opens the window; if he doesn't get some air, he's doomed.

"What the hell happened?" he mutters.

Cas examines the remains. He points at the broken ribcage; no heart. "Werewolves".

"How can it be werewolves? The whole room is filled with freaking wolfsbane!" Dean yells. "I put it there myself, you saw me! You were the one who insisted on taking some off when Sam started coughing in his sleep; what fucking kind of werewolf could ever enter here?"

Cas shakes his head as a sign of ignorance. "I don't know, Dean. But this is what it is, no doubt of it. It has the stink of werewolves all over it".

Dean tries to think straight. He doesn't know if it's because of his 20 hours in a celestial plane of existence, but he is actually quite calm, compared to his expected reaction.

"Okay, this couldn't be Sam; he couldn't have done this, not ever", he says, mostly because he needs to hear it himself. "He hasn't seen his first full moon, so there's no freaking way he'd turn during any other time of the day. Someone else did this".

Cas nods. "I'm with you. Whoever did this, they were unusually strong. Turning before the full moon, maybe even during the day… That's not something just anyone could do".

"I sent the poor girl to her death", Dean mutters and rubs his forehead, trying to relax.

"Dean, it wasn't your fault", Cas says calmly. "They entered a room full of wolfsbane in a hotel full of people – without being noticed. This isn't normal. This is something you couldn't have been prepared for. She will rest in peace. Now we have to think fast and act even faster, before anyone else joins her".

"Okay, okay", Dean tries to slow down his breathing. "So, how the fuck did they get in?"

Cas is ahead of him and is already checking the door and the lock. "They didn't break in, that's for sure".

Dean thinks of something. "But the window wasn't locked, was it?"

They look outside the window and immediately know it's too steep even for the claws of a werewolf. They exchange a look.

"Damn", says Dean. "We need to go. Now".

"Go where?"

"Find Sam!"

Just in case, Dean calls Sam's phone. He just might be awake. Which, of course, would probably be worse. He's not expecting an answer, as he's not expecting Sam to be the one to answer, in the one chance in a million the line doesn't just keep bleeping.

He definitely isn't expecting Sam to hang up on him.

His eyes widen. "Let's go", he says.

"Dean –"

"I said let's go!" He looks around once more and then turns to Cas again. "Can we take care of this?"

"Like how?"

"Like cleaning up this mess and letting nobody know it happened".

"Are you out of your mind?" Castiel asks, not believing what he's hearing. "If they find the girl, it's murder, but if they never will, it's a missing person. _Last seen coming into your room_. They'll look for her".

"Yeah, yeah. Just make the body materialise somewhere else and put the freaking witch's fingerprints all over it when we find her, can you do that?"

"You're going crazy, Dean. This is way too risky. I would never –"

Dean doesn't wait for Castiel to answer, he just rolls his eyes, snaps his fingers and there's a white shining and a gentle rustle, and the room is clean. No body, no blood, no nothing. Castiel's jaw drops and he looks at Dean.

"Hey, look at that. I really am more comfortable with my angel mojo now", says Dean and smirks sarcastically. "Now are you coming?"

Castiel's lips tighten and he looks at Dean angrily, but there's no time for this now, so he just nods. Dean disappears with a flutter and Cas is about to follow him downstairs, when he notices Sam's laptop on the bedside table. He grabs it under his arm and then rushes after Dean.

Mrs Loreley is sitting behind the reception, reading, as always. She greets them with a smile that is almost reaching her ears.

"Good morning, my dears", she says, but notices Dean's solemn expression and her smile fades. "Something wrong?"

"Did you see my brother?" Dean asks, and for once he doesn't care about being polite.

"No, honey", Mrs Loreley says and her surprise looks genuine. "I thought he was sick. Is he okay?"

"He'd better be", says Dean. "Did you notice anything strange last night? Anything at all?"

"Strange like what?"

"Like any weird sounds? Or somebody you don't know lurking around?"

"Good heavens, no", Mrs Loreley says and she looks quite scared now. "What in God's name is happening? Are you boys in trouble?"

"There is no need to worry, Mrs Loreley", Castiel butts in, pulling Dean back from the sleeve. "We have to go now, but we'll be back soon enough".

"You sure?" Mrs Loreley asks and her voice is full of concern.

"Yes".

"Do you at least want some breakfast? I've got some made for you", she insists.

"No", says Dean. "Yes", says Cas at the same time. They look at each other and Cas' eyeballs show Dean the laptop under his arm. Dean sighs and gives in. "Yes", he says. "We'll be sitting over there".

He walks towards the café with Cas behind him, and sits down in a table. Castiel sits next to him.

"What about Sam's laptop?" Dean asks.

"Dean, he was looking for the witch and her coven", Castiel reminds him. "There might be some information in here".

"Dude, do you remember me looking all over the place for her?" Dean asks furiously, trying to keep it down. "I know her name, her coven, her address, but _nada_. She's freaking invisible. And right now, my priority is Sam".

"The one doesn't cancel out the other", says Cas. "Don't you think she's probably behind this?"

Dean sighs. "To be honest, I don't know. I mean, it should be her, with werewolves and all that crap. But what if it's not? I mean, how did she get in?"

"You might find out if you just trusted your brother", Cas insists and he pushes Sam's laptop towards Dean, who hesitates, but turns it on.

"Here you go", they hear a female voice, as a waitress leaves two cups of coffee and some pie on the table. Dean looks up at the waitress and recognises the small, freckled redhead who stood up for him when Sam went nuts in the parking lot.

"Thanks", he says and smiles, even with some difficulty. She deserves at least that. "I remember you. I thought Sally took care of the morning people, though. Are you working overtime?"

"Oh, Sally got the day off", the redhead shrugs. Then she looks at Dean a little suspiciously. "Sorry to ask this, but… you're the one fooling around with her a couple of nights ago, right?"

Dean gulps. "What?"

"Look, I don't want to interfere or anything", says the girl, "but I thought you should know that she's got a boyfriend. You'd better keep your distance".

"Uh, just… stop, I'm not interested", says Dean and blushes as he glimpses at Castiel. He can't see the angel's expression behind his cup of coffee.

"Sorry", says the redhead. "I just thought you ought to know".

"Yeah, I'm really, _really_ not interested in her. 'Kay?" Dean insists.

"Okay", agrees the girl. "And again, I'm sorry to butt in. It's none of my business, I know. I just didn't want you to get hurt or anything. She's been a little strange these days".

Cas lifts his head and Dean suddenly wants to hide; he can't really face Cas, so he just starts searching Sam's recent internet history and saved files. "What do you mean, 'strange'?" the angel asks the girl.

"Um… I don't know", she says and shrugs. "She's been a little too frustrated, I guess. Must be because she's working overtime. Oh, gosh, I'm blabbering again". She looks at her watch, as Dean's jaw drops at the sight of the screen. "I'd better get back to work. And again, I'm sorry for all this. I hope you don't mind".

"Hell yeah, we don't", mutters Dean as the girl walks away and he turns the laptop over to Castiel. The angel frowns as he looks at the screen.

"A delta with a crescent moon?" Castiel half-announces. "Is this her coven symbol?"

"Guess what else it is", says Dean, his brow suddenly feeling sweaty. "Remember Sally, who took the day off? And who walked Sharon up to our room yesterday?"

"Of course".

"_She had this tattooed on her arm_".

Castiel's eyes widen. "It's her".

Dean rubs his forehead. "Son of a bitch", he mutters. "I had the bitch right next to me all along". He remembers the night before yesterday and suddenly feels the need to vomit. "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, I even –"

"…had sex with her?"

Dean looks at Cas, whose expression and voice are as matter-of-fact as usual. If he's jealous or anything, he doesn't show it.

Dean shakes his head. "No, I didn't. I mean, I almost did. But _almost_ doesn't count". _Well done, Dean, as if this isn't awkward enough_, he thinks.

Castiel nods, serious as ever. Dean wonders whether he screwed this up already and starts to feel his heart sink at that possibility. Then Cas suddenly gets up and walks away. Dean stays still for a moment, like he's been struck by lightning, and then he closes Sam's laptop and follows Cas, who has walked up to the redhead waitress.

"Excuse me", Dean hears the angel say to the girl quietly, "but I would like to speak to your friend, Sally. What she did to my friend doesn't seem right to me".

The girl looks a little upset. "Look, mate, I told you before, I don't want any trouble", she says as she looks at Cas nervously. "I just thought he should know that she probably isn't available, _that's all_".

Castiel looks at the little brass plate on her shirt. "Your name is Gwen, right?"

"Yes".

"Gwen, I _really_ need to talk to your friend".

"No", she insists. Dean's got to admit it, the girl's got guts. If she wasn't standing next to Castiel, he might even find her attractive enough to be interested. "Leave me alone or I'll call security".

Dean comes closer. "Look, I'm sorry, we really mean her no harm", he says and tries to push Cas back, but his look stops Dean dead.

_I can do this, Dean, _says a voice inside Dean's head.

Dean steps back, surprised. His eyes widen as he watches Cas taking out his fake FBI ID, checking which side is up and showing it to the girl, who suddenly looks like she's been slapped.

"Look, we want her for something more than just some cheating", Cas says and Dean is surprised at how convincing he sounds. Not like a fed, maybe, but for a creature from another world he's pretty good.

"Is she in trouble?" Gwen asks nervously. "…officer?" she adds.

"We'll find out as soon as you tell us where she is", Castiel says without a blink.

"Okay", the girl nods. "I'm – I'm gonna get you her cell number".

"I'm afraid that's not enough", Cas says. "I'm going to need something of hers. For…" he hesitates, "…tests. To see if she's really the one we're looking for".

Gwen nods and walks away as quickly as possible.

Dean looks at Cas with his mouth still half-open in amazement. Castiel didn't sound convincing at all to Dean's trained ears, but it worked pretty well in a local waitress whose idea of federal agents was probably limited to Miss Congeniality.

"I'm impressed", says Dean. "That was really good".

"You're not the only one who learns fast, Dean", Castiel says and Dean has the impression he's a little cold towards him; but maybe it's just the guilt from having him finding out that Dean almost hooked up with the witch they're looking for the night before him and Cas first got together. Maybe it doesn't mean anything to an angel. Maybe it does. Dean just hasn't got the time to find out right now, so he just shoves the subject to a corner of his mind and just turns his focus on Gwen returning with a folded paper and a hat.

"This is her number, and the hat should have some of her hair, if you want it for DNA tests or anything", she says. "Look, I really hope she's not in any serious trouble. Can you promise me you won't harm her?"

"Not if she doesn't try to harm us first", says Dean and he takes the paper and the hat. "We'd appreciate if you didn't tell anybody about this. We're undercover, you know".

"Yes, yes, totally", Gwen reassures him.

Dean nods and he goes outside with Cas right behind him. He walks to the Impala and takes out his cell, dialling Amanda Sheridan's number.

He listens to the beeping. He remembers her arms around him and her lips and everything and he feels his spine shivering. He looks at the blue eyes watching him carefully and wonders how the hell he could ever do that to Cas. How could he ever not notice the presence of the witch who cursed Sam? Was it just because she'd hit on him? Was he really so desperate?

And now she's making him have to deal with feelings again.

Damn, the list of her crimes is getting bigger and bigger.

The beeping continues for a moment. Then someone picks up the phone.

"Dean?"

And Dean feels his heart stopping.

"…Sam?"


	14. Chapter 14

_Hello, m'dears. I apologise for the horrible state of the previous chapter. It was terrible and I'm sorry. Writer's block can be tough._

_I hope to make up for it in these two final chapters… that are uploaded at the same time._

_The action scene was a bitch. I've never written anything like that before. Also, I hope I haven't lost my touch after so long. Sorry to have kept you waiting this much! I hope you will forgive me. I wanna thank you for sticking with me in this journey for this long._

_Just to make you happy, I'm announcing that I'm probably gonna write a sequel._

_See ya! _

_**Chapter 14**_

"Sam?"

Dean sees Castiel's eyes widen. He can hear only breathing in the line.

"Sammy? Can you hear me?"

There's a pause. "_Yeah. I can hear you"._ Too calm. Something's wrong.

"Where are you? We're coming to get you".

"_No, Dean". _

As if everything could go according to plan.

"Are you shittin' me, Sammy?" Dean asks angrily. "Where the hell are you? We can't find you if you don't tell us where you are!"

The silence doesn't last more than a couple of seconds, but Dean feels like it's a lifetime. "Sam!" he shouts again.

"_Yeah, I hear you", _says Sam's voice, still terrifyingly calm. _"Don't come for me, Dean."_

"I swear, Sammy, if you don't stop the bullshit –"

"_What, you'll kill me? You might have to anyway"._

Dean feels a cold hand gripping his chest and squeezing it, but he takes a deep breath. "Don't be stupid, you'll be fine. Now tell me –"

"_I won't be fine. It's too late for me"._

"Sam, you're seriously scaring the crap out of me", Dean insists, determined to make Sam talk. "Just tell me where the fuck you are so I can come and get you!"

"_No. Goodbye, Dean"._

"SAM!" Dean yells but his brother has already hung up. "Son of a bitch!" he shouts and punches the Impala's roof.

"What happened?" asks Castiel, and Dean suddenly can't stand his calm tone.

"What did he mean, 'it's too late for him', Cas?" Dean asks.

"That's what he said to you?"

Dean swallows his sarcasm for later. "Yes. What did he mean?"

Cas frowns. "He couldn't possibly have turned".

"Cas, we need to do something!" Dean yells, feeling like he's going to go crazy. "How can we find him? Can't I, you know, sense him or something?"

"I doubt it", says Cas. "Your Grace is growing strong, which means you're probably affected by the angel-proofing carvings on Sam's ribs. Neither of us can find him".

"Can we locate _her_, at least?"

"I believe so, yes", Cas says and he takes in his hands the hat Gwen gave them. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing".

Dean watches Cas concentrate. Some moments pass, and then the angel looks up.

"Got her".

()

Sam has never cursed his hunter training more than now. He knows he can't resist forever, but his practiced toughness against the supernatural makes him hold on to the real Sam for longer than normal.

He wishes he could just go nuts and get it over with.

He hears Sally laugh and her laughter fills the space in the car cemetery they're in; his first instinct is to rip her throat out. Then he feels her inside his head again and he hates _every fucking part of himself_, because _every fucking part of himself wants to wag his tail and go close to her and do her will._

He growls and crawls on all fours towards the nearest car, just to have something to hold on to. His confusion is killing him.

_Come on, come on, come on, you can do it. You didn't turn into a demon, you didn't turn into Lucifer, you're stronger than that. Think of something to keep you going. Think of Dean. Think of Bobby and Cas. Think of Dad, what would he think of you if he saw you like this?_

"Oh, you're still resisting. How cute."

Sam feels a mental spear splitting his head in two and he screams as he feels his blood boiling in his veins. The witch laughs again, and this time, he is sure that her pets are cackling too.

_Damn you, did you have to bring all your wolves to watch me? As if all this crap isn't enough._

Sam hasn't the faintest idea how long he's been resisting her. It could be an hour, or a day, or a year, or a minute. He only remembers waking up in a car cemetery, surrounded by Sally the waitress and some strange-looking people, whose smell he identified as werewolf-ish. He realised at once that it had been her all along – the way she's controlling him left him with no doubt. Several shocks and painful mindfucks later, he's still human, and aware of her amusement, and so fucking tired and angry.

"Just give it up, Sam", he hears Sally – no, Amanda – say. "Sooner or later you'll be mine, like everyone else. And then, I'll have you tear your brother's flesh off his bones".

"Go… to hell", Sam growls as he feels his guts turn the inside out.

"I don't think I like your tone", she says politely and smiles. Somehow, he would prefer her to wear some kind of gothic, punk-ish clothes to show off her witchiness, or at least some kind of formal clothing. The fact that she still looks like the sweet, Converse-jeans-and-tank-top wearing waitress makes her far creepier. She pats his head and he feels like she punched him.

"You shouldn't be so upset about this, Sam", she tells him calmly. "I'm offering you freedom".

Sam's little consciousness is somehow annoyed that his sarcastic laugh sounds a little like a bark, but what can you do. Better than licking her hand.

"I'm serious", she continues. "Imagine not having to follow your brother around, not having a problem killing off whatever monster you don't like having in your neighbourhood. Being strong and powerful, understanding people's intentions towards you by a single sniff. You're so much better than your stupid ape of a brother, why not get rid of him once and for all?"

"I'd like –", Sam pants and gets a grip on the car's tyre, "I'd like to see you say that on his face".

She laughs. "Oh, Sam, Sam. He'll have to come here first".

"Start… praying". Damn, she's persistent. Sam's sarcastic comments and comebacks are becoming worse and worse. He's still glad to be able to make them after having a freaking witch inside his head for so long, though.

"You know what, I don't think I will, Sammy", she says and smiles. "I don't think your brother's coming at all. I think he's glad to get rid of you. He will later be able to say that he tried to save you and he failed, and he can go on with his life, just him and his boyfriend, all alone".

Sam is sure that his brain is starting to get some serious damage, because he doesn't understand a word. "What are you –"

"Do you know where his brother was when I killed your sweet little nurse and took you away, Sammy?" she whispers sweetly in his ear. "He was off in another room, fucking his pretty boy's blue eyes out".

Sam would laugh, if his entire body didn't feel like it was splitting in half. Instead, he snarls and makes a grimace that might have been a sarcastic grin.

"Still doubting me? Then why was he leaving with him every now and then? Why did he get another room? Why has he left you here with me for –" she looks at her watch, " – oh my, has it been twenty one hours already? – without even trying to save you? Maybe he's got something better than a brother now. Maybe he needs to have someone else ride shotgun with him. You've been nothing but a burden to each other. Can't you see he wants out?"

Sam is trying to resist her, but there's no way. He knows he has disappointed Dean in so many ways in the past, but this? No. No, there's no way. Dean choosing Cas over him? And by making him his boyfriend, of all things? Not Dean I-fucking-love-girls-but-none-more-than-my-family Winchester. Not Dean I've-gone-to-hell-for-my-brother Winchester. No way.

Yeah, and who had pulled him out of Hell when Sam was screwing a demon?

What reason was there for Dean _not _to ditch Sam for Cas' sake? Sam had only caused problems so far, he had started the fucking Apocalypse, and the only one who stood by Dean's side then was Cas.

Damn, not only Sam was becoming something that needed ganking once again, but he had made Dean turn into a freaking winged hybrid in the process, and he'd almost gotten him killed. Cas was also growing weaker because of him.

Hell, why wouldn't they just give up on him and go on with their lives?

Pain doesn't feel so bad to Sam right now. He suddenly feels completely empty. All his life he knew he had a family he could depend on, and even though he kept giving up on it over and over again, Dean would always be there. Sam should have expected that there would come a time when Dean would just say "you know what, I'm tired of running after you and saving your ass" and let him go.

And now what? What can he do, all by himself?

He feels Amanda's mind touching his own; gently, politely, soothingly. She wants only to calm him down. She knew how broken his family was from the beginning; she can be his new family. No, more than a family; she can be his mistress. She will take care of him and she will never, ever, ever give up on him. He will have many brothers and sisters if he follows her. They are around him now, watching him as his pain eases.

"That's it", he hears Amanda's voice. "See how easier it is when you don't fight it?"

Sam nods as his body shakes. God, it hurts so much. How could Dean do this to him? How could he leave him? Sam knows he can be good, he will be good for Amanda, but how he would like to have the chance to be good for Dean once more…

"Stop thinking about him, love", she says, like she's reading his thoughts. Maybe she is. Sam doesn't mind. "He doesn't care about you. I was with him some nights ago, you know", she says softly and kneels before him. Sam looks at her, still breathing heavily, the pain in his body always present. She strokes his hair gently, almost mother-like, and he longs for her touch. "He's tired of you. What a monster! He told me he was planning to get away from you as soon as possible. Can you imagine, talking to a complete stranger about you like that!"

Sam is sure now, she's right. How could he not see it earlier? She wanted what's best for him all along. He welcomes her inside his mind. The pain doesn't go away, but it doesn't matter now, because she's taking care of him.

"That's it, honey", she purrs. "I'm here. Your brother left you with me; you might as well accept it and make me your new family".

Sam wants to answer_ something_, but then Amanda's phone rings and her attention is focused on that.

"Speaking of the devil", she comments. "It's your brother, Sammy", she says and Sam suddenly fills with rage and confusion. "Want to talk to him?" she asks and Sam wants to scream from the pressure.

Amanda shakes her head. "No, no, that won't do", she says. "We'll do it my way", and then Sam can't control his body anymore. He is aware of his hand lifting Amanda's phone and pressing the green button. He tries to scream at his brother but his voice sounds very calm.

"Dean?"

"_Sam?"_ Dean sounds upset. Well, bugger. He probably expected to hear the chick he had banged.

"_Sammy? Can you hear me?"_

Sam hears himself answering: "Yeah. I can hear you".

"_Where are you? We're coming to get you"._

Right. Dean and Cas are the new dynamic duo now. Always coming after the damsel in distress. Screw both of them.

"No, Dean", says Sam and this time, he's not sure if he's controlling his mouth or not.

"_Are you shittin' me, Sammy?" _he hears Dean shouting._ "Where the hell are you? We can't find you if you don't tell us where you are!"_

Sam tries to answer, but the pressure Amanda puts on him is too much. _"Sam!"_ Dean shouts again.

"Yeah, I hear you", says Amanda through Sam's mouth. "Don't come for me, Dean."

"_I swear, Sammy, if you don't stop the bullshit –"_

"What, you'll kill me? You might have to anyway". Sam knows it's true. Dean won't understand that Sam's got a new family now. He won't like his new mistress and he will be jealous of his new brothers and sisters. He will probably try to kill him.

"_Don't be stupid, you'll be fine. Now tell me –"_

"I won't be fine. It's too late for me", Sam admits, and a little part of him feels something is wrong, but Amanda's mind is so sweet he doesn't want to let go…

"_Sam, you're seriously scaring the crap out of me",_ Dean insists, and Sam feels Amanda getting angry. _"Just tell me where the fuck you are so I can come and get you!"_

"No. Goodbye, Dean", Sam hears himself say and the hangs up. He somehow wishes his brother won't come to his rescue. He won't enjoy killing him. Dean has done enough for him all these years, he deserves at least to be left alone. Sam can go live his life and Dean can go live with Cas or whatever. Sam doesn't want to owe him anything.

"You were amazing, sweetheart", Amanda says and she caresses his hair. "Now be mine".

And Sam feels his bones crack and his DNA go crazy. His entire skull is filled with new senses and scents and sounds and a pack instinct, and the absolute control Amanda has over him. He doesn't care anymore.

One of his new brothers howls and the rest of them follow, and Sam responds too.

Yes, he's a part of this family now.

He hears Amanda laugh.

And then he hears and loud flutter of wings and a voice so cold it could freeze the fires of Hell.

"_Get away from my brother, you fugly whore"._

()

Cas arrives at the car cemetery about a fragment of a second before Dean. They're standing on top of an old, rusty Volkswagen van. They look around and there's the witch, and her pets, and –

Cas wants to hold on to the element of surprise but he feels Dean's Grace explode and he hears him not as much shout as command:

"Get away from my brother, you fugly whore".

Yeah, he makes a good angel alright. Even though it would probably be better if they just took off some of the thirteen werewolves before making themselves a target.

In Dean's excitement, Amanda looks surprised. The werewolves are in place, Sam included. They have their teeth bared, but apart from that, they look quite human. She's still controlling them into discipline.

"How the hell did you get here?" she asks.

"I followed the scent of a slutty old hag with a dog fetish", Dean answers and Cas sees the hunter's fists clench. He wonders if Dean has his gun with him.

"How did you track me?" she insists, trying to sound more curious than upset. Castiel suddenly realises she thinks she's dealing with mere hunters here. Well, better keep the angel card hidden in their sleeve till later.

"None of your damn business", Dean snaps at her. "How the fuck are you controlling Sam?"

"I should probably say 'none of your damn business', but I'm enjoying your stupidity, so I'll state the obvious", she says and stares at both of them with a look that could sour milk. "I don't know if you noticed, but it's the _full moon. _It's the time when werewolves, you know, _turn into werewolves"._

"It's ten freaking thirty in the morning, you sneaky bitch!"

"Just because you can't see the moon doesn't mean it's not there, you big monkey", she snaps back. "You're a hunter; I supposed you'd know at least _that_. It's the moon's _position _that makes wolves go mad, not its_ light_. Do you sit and watch Van Helsing instead of actually hunting or are you just that stupid?"

Cas can hear Dean's breathing quicken and he places a hand on his shoulder. He turns to the witch.

"Let Sam go", he says politely. "You've had your revenge. You saw Dean suffer. Now give it up before you're utterly destroyed".

She laughs loudly. "You're kidding, right? This bastard killed my sister!"

"You've killed more".

"So has he!"

"Just give it up. We only want Sam back".

"Speak for yourself", says Dean. "I want to see her guts on a stake. Her dogs, too".

"Really, pretty boy?" she mocks. "You and whose army?"

And then she whistles. Thirteen werewolves move as one and come towards them. Cas and Dean look at each other and Cas jumps from the roof of the van, while Dean pulls two guns under his jacket – Cas has no idea when he took them from the motel room.

There are six female werewolves and seven male ones. Sam is still trying to stand up, and neither Dean nor Cas know if he's still resisting. The biggest of the men is the fastest – he reaches Dean first, only to receive a silver bullet between his eyebrows. The rest hesitate for a moment, but they don't stop.

A woman and a man reach Castiel at the same time. He avoids their claws and touches both their foreheads simultaneously. They both collapse. Cas hears three more gunshots and the sound of sharp claws on metal, as the werewolves try to get a grip on the van before they die.

Castiel teleports behind two more and knocks them out. A woman with bare teeth attacks him from behind and he feels her teeth tearing out a piece of the flesh on his shoulder. He growls and grabs her head. He's aware of Dean shouting his name as he shoots two more times. Cas makes a sudden move and he hears the woman's neck snapping under his fingers; his stomach turns, but there's no time to think about this.

He hears Dean moaning and then there's the sound of a kick, and he turns to see a werewolf with a broken nose and a Dean with a bleeding calf. Before he makes a move, Dean has shot both the remaining werewolves and is down from the roof of the van, apparently not even feeling the pain in his leg. He looks at Castiel.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"Yeah".

They both turn to Amanda.

Her brow is sweating, but she still smiles.

"And here comes the boss enemy", she says. "Let's see how you deal against that. Come here, boy".

And Sam gets up. Or, at least, what they both once recognised as Sam. His face is deformed with a snarl that exposes sharp fangs; his eyes are glowing; he's holding his clawed hands in a position that stinks of hostility and intention to attack.

Castiel can almost hear Dean's heart breaking.

"Oh, no, Sammy", he hears Dean whisper.

Then Sam growls and runs towards them. Dean glances at his guns and throws them aside, cursing. Amanda laughs – she knows he's never gonna plant a silver bullet in Sam's head.

Sam jumps on Dean and pins him to the ground. He snarls over his face and digs his teeth on his brother's throat without hesitation. Dean screams.

Cas doesn't try to stop Sam. He chooses to appear behind the witch, instead.

He hears her gasping at his sudden disappearance.

He lets his real voice flow through his vessel. "Dean!" he shouts as loudly as possible, putting as much information as he can in a simple word. The windows of many cars around break; some radios start playing; the witch screams and turns around to face him as she covers her ears; Sam howls in pain.

Dean gets the message, though. Damn, his Grace really is strong.

Dean and Cas both stick their hands inside their opponents' stomachs.

Cas grabs the witch's soul with some difficulty; the bitch really is evil and corrupted, her soul is tiny. Dean doesn't have that problem; Sam's soul is huge and shining.

Both Sam and the witch scream in pain.

Dean sweats as he absorbs all the werewolf blackness inside him.

Cas doesn't stop staring into the witch's eyes as she screams in pain, as she collapses on her knees – as he slowly crashes her soul under his fingers.

"Think of it as a favour", he whispers in her ear as she gasps her last breath, "you won't rot in Hell".

And then his fist clenches and her small, black soul explodes in a million pieces like a miniature supernova.

Dean screams and lets go of Sam, and they both fall backwards, almost unconscious.

Cas runs next to them.

"Sammy!" Dean yells and he crawls close to his brother. "Sam!"

"Dean", Sam murmurs. "Dean… I'm so sorry. I'm sorry".

Castiel sits down and takes Sam's head in his lap. No fangs, no glowing eyes, no nothing. He looks at Dean.

"It's okay. He'll be okay", he says, over and over, until Dean starts breathing normally again. Dean takes his brother's hand in his and squeezes it. His other hand searches blindly for Castiel's. Cas' fingers lace themselves with Dean's. The angel lets a little part of his wings stay unearthly, just so that he doesn't have to take off his clothes, and the rest of his wings wrap themselves around the three of them in comfort.

"It's all gonna be okay", Castiel mumbles as he watches both brothers relax in his arms.

And for once, he really believes it.


	15. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

Castiel moves Sam and Dean to their room as soon as he makes sure they're capable of handling some teleportation. He cleans their clothes and faces from the blood and checks on them for possible wounds. No need to worry there – Dean's leg and throat are completely healed, and Sam isn't wounded at all.

Castiel locates the remains of the poor nurse that happened to be in the way of Amanda's revenge. He feels his Grace is strong, and tries to resurrect her, without really believing anything might happen.

It doesn't.

He follows Dean's plan, though, and moves the remains to the car cemetery, next to the body of the witch. He knows that Dean will be pissed, but he shoots the girl's remains with one of Dean's guns, wipes off his fingerprints and puts the gun into Amanda's hand.

The werewolves he had knocked out before aren't anywhere to be seen. They probably woke up and got away as fast as possible. Castiel knows that Dean and Sam will want to hunt them down, but for now, he is just depending on their confusion of losing their mistress. They are probably raging to have been used like this.

Everything on its own time, though.

Castiel returns to the motel. He acts surprised when Mrs Loreley says she has no idea that Sam and Dean are back. He orders some breakfast for the three of them – two cups of coffee, pie, toasted bread and omelette for Sam, and he allows himself the pleasure of doughnuts and a cup of hot chocolate. He takes it all upstairs and waits until Sam and Dean wake up, drinking his chocolate.

Nothing happens until it's 4 in the afternoon.

Dean is the first to get up. His sleepy eyes explore the room and focus on Castiel, who smiles.

"Hello".

Dean rubs his eyes. "What happened?"

"You two fell asleep".

Dean groans. "Dude, so not cool".

"You exhausted your Grace, Dean, and Sam went werewolf and back", Castiel reminds him. "I will say it again; you two never stop surprising me".

Dean looks at Sam, and then back at Cas. "How is he?"

"He's alright. Looking and feeling normal to me. I expect he will wake soon", says Cas and he takes a sip from his chocolate. He lets his cup down, picks up the pie and one cup of coffee and takes them to Dean. He sits on the edge of Dean's bed, watching.

"What's this?" Dean asks, half-smirking.

"I believe it's a gesture of affection to bring someone breakfast in bed".

Dean smiles widely and lets out a little laugh. "Yeah", he says quietly. "Yeah, it is". He takes a sip from his coffee. "It's good".

Castiel smiles back and doesn't move. They sit there quietly for a while, Dean drinking his coffee half-sitting on the bed, looking at Cas, Cas just watching him.

"Oh, _for crying out loud_".

They both turn to look at Sam, who's awake and risen on his elbows. Probably for a while now.

"Mornin', Sammy", says Dean energetically. "Sleep well?"

"Dude, don't tell me the witch was right about you two!" Sam exclaims, sounding desperate, but he's smirking.

"If what she said was how freakin' awesome we both are, then yes, she was right", says Dean and throws Sam his pillow. Sam catches it and smirks.

"Thanks for that", he says and puts it under his head, over his own pillow.

"Bitch", murmurs Dean as he gets up and walks to the shower.

"I heard that", shouts Sam after him. "Jerk!"

Castiel can do nothing but smile.

()

They spend the next few hours taking their showers, eating quietly, just smiling that they're all alive and okay. They don't talk much, though. There's still a shadow over the three of them.

They go downstairs and greet Mrs Loreley. She waves at them and tells Sam how happy she is that he's feeling better. They thank her, grab two six packs of beer, get in the Impala and go back to the meadow.

Sam sits on the trunk, Dean on the hood, Castiel on the front. It's not really dark yet, but the moon is out. It feels good to be able to see the moon without it meaning anything terrifying.

"Thanks", says Sam quietly, out of the blue.

Cas looks at him, but Dean just keeps looking ahead. "You're an idiot", he says and drinks some of his beer.

"I mean it, guys", Sam insists. "I caused too much trouble this time".

"Sam, it's not 'too much' until it has two Lucifers, three Crowleys, the whole army of Hell and the Loch Ness monster in it".

"Dean –"

"Sammy, we're past the point of thanking each other for saving our asses, dontcha think?"

"Besides", Castiel interrupts, "we were too late, weren't we?"

Dean turns towards him. "What do you mean?"

Cas returns the look, but doesn't answer.

Dean turns to Sam. "Sammy?"

Sam shifts in his place. "Well, Cas was right about one thing. I can still… feel stuff. Like, the smells are the same as they were right after the bite. They're too strong. I think there's a little wolf left inside me".

Dean stares at him for a moment, and then shrugs and returns his attention to his beer. "Well, I don't care, Sammy. As long as you're alive and well, that's all that matters".

"And –"

Sam stops. Dean looks at him.

"What?"

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Dean".

Dean sighs. He glances at Castiel, but he looks away. They haven't talked about this.

"I don't know, Sammy".

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

Dean hesitates. "I mean…"

He looks at Cas, who is looking at him this time. It's not a look of pleading, or sadness, or anything else. It's just a usual Castiel-trademark look, soul-piercing and serious. But Dean can feel it – not in Cas' heartbeat, but rather in his Grace. And he knows Cas can feel it too.

It wasn't a "last night on earth" thing, they both know it. It was never like that. It was something that had always been there. It was something they both wanted. It was the first time something this good was happening to both of them in a very long time, and neither of them was planning on letting it go.

If Cas was always willing to fall for Dean, to die, to rebel, to lose his family, his friends, his purpose, if he was willing to do anything possible for him without them even having acknowledged their feelings, how could Dean do anything less for him than grow wings?

He smiles at him.

Castiel smiles back. He disappears and materialises on the hood of the car, right next to Dean, his wings unfurled. His right wing wraps itself around Dean. Dean chuckles; he takes off his jacket and then his shirt and lets his own wings out. His left wing slips under Cas' right one, hugging his angel tight, as his left hand takes hold of Castiel's right and their fingers tangle together.

Dean realises he has to look at Sam at some point and he slowly turns his head to face his brother – he's definitely _not_ blushing.

Sam's looking at them wide-eyed, with a smirk on his face, like he can hardly believe his eyes, but the amusement is far too great to ignore. In the end, he just laughs and shakes his head.

"I should have known before", he says, probably mostly to himself. "It was freaking obvious". He looks back at Dean. "So I guess you're keeping the wings?"

Dean feels a flutter in his stomach and takes a look at his angel. "Yeah, I suppose I am".

()

The next morning finds them ready to go. It's time to leave the motel for good. Mrs Loreley seems genuinely sad as she gives them some food for the road; this one isn't going to their bill, she says as they pay her. That one is from her personally.

Dean is settling everything in the car when Sam takes Castiel aside.

"Hey, man, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Of course, Sam. What is it?"

Sam looks a little uncomfortable. "First of all, I want to tell you that I'm really happy for you guys. You've no idea how happy I am that you've finally decided to go for it. You both deserve some happiness, you know?"

Castiel smiles shyly. "Thank you".

"I mean, it's okay as long as I'm not the third wheel. I'm still riding shotgun. You can have your fun in the car when I'm sleeping in the backseat and have my ears shut with candlewax. Okay?" he says, but his smirk is teasing.

Cas nods. "We will try not to make you uncomfortable, you have my word".

"Okay", Sam says and he sighs. "Look, I hope you know what you're doing. I'm a little worried about Dean. Is he going to be okay?"

"You mean because he's half-angel now?"

Sam blinks. "I thought he was fully angel".

"Not exactly. He will always be part human. Nobody, not even Michael's vessel, can just become a true angel just like that. But he is probably as powerful as a real angel, yes. And he might grow even stronger eventually".

"Isn't it dangerous? At all?" asks Sam. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy for him. If he suits him and he's cool with his feathers, then I'm cool with the whole thing too. I'm just saying… just to be safe".

Castiel sighs. "They will probably come looking for him".

Sam frowns. "You mean… from Heaven?"

"Yes. They will sense a new, unknown angelic power soon. They will want to know who is it and what he can do".

"So he's a target".

"Not yet. He still has the Enochian carvings on his ribs, ironically enough", Cas says with a smirk.

Sam snorts. "At least you're getting the concept of humor now. Dean is probably good for you".

"Yeah, I believe he is", Castiel agrees.

Sam stays silent for a moment. "So what now? What if they come and get him? Will they kill him or try to make him one of them?"

Castiel doesn't answer right away. "I think we'll find out sometime. For now… all we can do is move on and see how it goes. Don't you think?"

Sam smiles. Yeah, no need to worry right now.

"Hey, boys!"

They turn in the sound of the familiar voice. Mrs Loreley is running towards them as Dean also approaches.

"Oh, great, you haven't left yet", she pants happily.

"No, Mrs Loreley, what's up?" asks Dean.

"I just wanted to say… it'll be a shame if you missed the Halloween celebrations, that's all", she says. "And we'd all like to see you again sometime. You have been great customers, my dears".

"Sorry, Mrs Loreley, seems we can't stay for Halloween", says Dean and he sounds really disappointed. "You have fun, though, okay?"

"And don't worry", adds Sam, "we'll come every time we're in the neighbourhood and these two need a room". He laughs even when Dean smacks his head – totally worth it. Even though Dean will have to work on that new angel-strength of his. Mrs Loreley giggles.

"Well, my dears, I'm gonna go now. You have a great journey, alright?"

"Thank you for everything, Mrs Loreley", says Castiel.

"Don't mention it, dear", she says and turns her back to leave, when she remembers something. "Oh, and my niece loved the name 'Castiel', by the way. I think she's going with it for her little boy".

Cas blinks and his jaw drops, but Dean laughs. "Thank you, Mrs Loreley. That's great", he answers in the angel's stead.

"Well, be careful, darlings. See you". And she leaves.

The three of them look at each other.

"Okay, back to the road", says Dean. "I can't believe it, but I'm gonna miss this shitty motel".

"Well, it turned out better than we expected", comments Sam. "By the way, I _am_ calling dibs on shotgun", and he slips inside the car before Dean or Castiel have time to react.

Dean chuckles. "So, here we are. Everything the way it was, and everything turned upside down".

"Yes, I believe that is the case". Cas' look meets Dean's.

"I don't think I mind", says Dean.

"Me neither".

()

Mrs Loreley looks out the window, towards the boys. She wonders vaguely how the tall one can fit inside that car, but her attention is focused on the ones still outside.

She grins and giggles when, finally, the boys hug and their lips touch – happily, awkwardly, gently, then passionately, like they're the only people in the world.

She averts her eyes and smiles widely. Yeah, they are totally meant for each other.

And she goes back to her desk and finds comfort in the paper arms of Mr Darcy, as a black 67 Impala hits the road once more.


End file.
